


Courage, Dear Heart

by mylifeincoffeespoons



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Angst with a Happy Ending, Breaking Up & Making Up, Divergent from Real Life, F/M, Grief, M/M, Mentioned Verbal/Physical Abuse, Minor Character Death, Minor Injuries, Minor Violence, Signs of Depression and Anxiety, controlling relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-01
Updated: 2017-07-09
Packaged: 2018-11-07 14:51:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 56,646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11061276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mylifeincoffeespoons/pseuds/mylifeincoffeespoons
Summary: Mark takes Donghyuck home with him to Vancouver to meet his parents and to propose. It's all sunshine and rainbows, except they aren't actually together.





	1. Day 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! I am back with my second fic hurray! The title is a quote from C.S. Lewis. All characters except for the NCT members are mine, and none of the opinions or ideas in the fic represent my own. This is slow build, so please prepare to wait before seeing some romance. 
> 
> Before reading, please please please heed the warning tags!! They will show up. Not in this chapter though, I'll mention them again at the beginning of the chapters that have it. Lastly, a big thank you to all those who gave a kudos or left a comment in my first fic. 
> 
> Enjoy the fic!

When Mark asks Donghyuck to come home with him, his first instinct was to check the entrance of the kitchen to see if it was a hidden camera. When he doesn’t see anything or anyone aside from Mark and Taeil hyung who was eating pudding, he has what others might call a “delayed reaction.” 

The tea he’d been holding spills on the kitchen counter and he curses, grabbing some kitchen tissues and wiping it quickly, then more slowly, because when he was done he’d have to face Mark and his absurd question. 

Taeil hyung approaches Donghyuck, handing him a kitchen towel before escaping quickly because he could not be around all this unresolved teenage (never mind that both Mark and Donghyuck hadn’t been teenagers for a while) angst lest it breaks his zen. 

Crumpling the soaked tissues, he turns around to face Mark, who is sitting on the kitchen island like he hadn’t just asked Donghyuck the most ridiculous question of all. Like it was no big deal, to ask Donghyuck to come with him all the way to Vancouver as if Vancouver was just a restaurant down the street. 

“Hyung,” he says, “what do you mean, come home with you? To Canada?” 

Mark shifts in his seat, attempting to smile but failing like he always does when Donghyuck sounds seconds away from exploding, “Well, yeah. I mean, since you just finished filming that movie, and you don’t have to be back on set for another two months...and my album’s done, really. My brother’s getting married, too, so I want to be there for the wedding at least.” 

“Come home,” Donghyuck repeats, “with me?” 

“Yes, with you,” Mark rolls his eyes, playful, “is there anyone else in this kitchen right now?” 

I could punch you, Donghyuck thinks. I really could, and none of the hyungs would say anything, thinking that it’s just another fight, that Mark said something dumb again. Poor Mark, always having to deal with Donghyuck’s temper. Well, no one held Mark at gunpoint and coached him into periodically saying things that risked violence. Maybe Mark was a masochist. 

“I have a variety show lined up.” 

“Ten hyung said you weren’t going to take it, though? You didn’t like one of the other hosts…?” 

Ten hyung should really stop putting it upon himself to update every one of Donghyuck’s plans. Never mind that Donghyuck rarely replies in their group chat, or brings up his own schedules himself. If they wanted to know, they could text him. 

“Well, I haven’t decided yet,” Donghyuck hedges, “it’s really up in the air right now, the cast could still change, so…” 

“So it’s a no?” Mark looks at him, seagull eyes wrinkling, like wings wavering against harsh winds. I pass through his face like a storm, Donghyuck thinks. Except storms don’t backtrack, don’t go back to the places they ransacked. They don’t feel the need for reparations. 

“...When’s your brother’s wedding?” 

Mark beams, and tells him to pack light. 

News of the impending trip reached all the members much more quickly than Donghyuck had anticipated. The thing is, even though most of the members are scattered at the moment, doing their own solo gigs and only meeting up in small groups, Taeyong hyung still has a strong grip on pretty much every member. He knows about their schedules, their relationships with the other members (or even outside NCT) and when he asks everyone to meet up, they meet up. No one denies Taeyong hyung anything, the leader of a group that now has more than 20 active or inactive members, depending on the subunit. Although Donghyuck will admit that he doesn’t know the current line up of Dream as well as he’d like, he does still feel a sense of camaraderie with all the members. His family, however, will always be the two groups he’d first debuted with. 

So when Ten hyung, with Johnny hyung in tow, come to the dorms (they had their own apartment) with food and questions, Donghyuck lets them in and doesn’t snark as much as he would have if it had been people outside of 127 and Dream. 

“Fess up, boy,” Ten hyung ordered, adjusting his glasses like some noir detective, “what’s this about a trip to Canada?” 

“I’m surprised Mark hyung hasn’t updated everyone in the group chat.” 

“Oh, he has,” Johnny hyung snorts, “but all he said was that you were accompanying him to his brother’s wedding. He also refused to answer when we asked him if you were coming as his date, so…” 

“I’m not coming as his date,” Donghyuck’s metal chopsticks resounded against his plate, “just a friend. Accompanying another friend.” 

“Right,” Ten hyung says, “never mind that this is the perfect opportunity to introduce you to his parents and relatives or anything.” 

“You know we’re not like that.” Not anymore, Donghyuck wanted to add, but then no one really knew what had happened exactly, though Ten hyung probably did even without Donghyuck saying anything. You couldn’t have a fall-out without anything to fall out of, after all. 

“Just don’t elope in secret, okay?” Johnny hyung says, his eyebrows raised mischievously, causing Donghyuck to snort. 

“If you do decide to elope, though, I’d like some pictures.” Ten hyung adds, obviously trying to make it clear that they were still supportive of any possible reunions between them in Canada. Ten hyung had always been vocally supportive of them as a couple. Johnny hyung was, as well, but he usually talked to Mark about it more than Donghyuck. 

“There will be no eloping.” Donghyuck says, firm as he finished his glass of coke and put it down on the table with conviction. 

The hyungs nodded, letting it go, and Donghyuck is thankful that out of all the hyungs he and Mark had gotten close to as a pair, it was them. Any other pair, like Taeyong hyung and Jaehyun hyung, would have been too overbearing. 

Before they left, Ten hyung gives Donghyuck a long hug, whispering, “Don’t let Mark pressure you into anything. But you don’t have to keep saying no if you don’t want to. Your past self can ruin your present happiness if you’re not careful.” His eyes, big and earnest, reminded Donghyuck of Mark’s eyes, always shining with the best of intentions. 

Donghyuck wonders if he should start reading those Buddhist philosophy books that Ten hyung had gotten into. Maybe that was the key to his and Johnny hyung’s relationship. 

Mark and Donghyuck leave Korea on a cloudy Sunday night. It was so cloudy that on the ride to the airport, the full moon looked like smudged chalk courtesy of a shaky toddler’s hands. What did the moon look like, back home in Jeju? Was it just like this? Or was it the pollution of Seoul, that caused the moon to ripple? Donghyuck never really missed home anymore, but now that he was going to Mark’s home, miles upon miles away, he feels nostalgic for the cherry blossom lined streets and bright oranges that littered his house’s backyard. He felt so nostalgic that he even briefly considered writing to his mother, though the thought drifted and vanished as the moon did, curtained by passing clouds. 

At the airport, Mark takes care of pretty much everything that needed to be done, taking Donghyuck’s passport and ticket like Donghyuck was still a minor that Mark needed to look after. Old habits die hard. Donghyuck would’ve teased Mark about it before, but he decides to give him a break. All day Mark had seemed antsy as if waiting for Donghyuck to change his mind and decide he didn’t want to go anymore, even when the ticket was already bought and Donghyuck wouldn’t waste money like that. Instead, Donghyuck preoccupies himself with checking his messages, a slew of "Take Care’s" and requests for souvenirs from the Dream kids. Ten hyung texted to not to storm off in a fit because Donghyuck would only get lost, but if he was really mad he could just throw something at Mark. Donghyuck wonders if Mark knows that Ten hyung indulges his temper. 

“Should we buy instant noodles in case the airplane food isn’t any good?” Mark says. 

“Fine by me,” Donghyuck shrugs, though honestly, he wanted to sleep through the whole flight, even if it was about 10 hours long. 

They buy some noodles, including the udon ones that Mark knows Donghyuck likes.  
When they’re seated comfortably, Mark starts to look a bit constipated, the way he does when he’s about to say something embarrassing or sentimental (his fully capable hyung, he even brought emotional constipation to a whole new level). Probably thanking Donghyuck for coming with him. To spare them both from the unneeded moment, Donghyuck cuts him off. 

“Hey, can we share earphones? I think mine is broken.” 

Mark looks at him as if measuring Donghyuck’s honesty (a fruitless endeavor, Donghyuck’s never really 100% honest about anything) before agreeing and taking out his earphones, giving one to Donghyuck. 

Donghyuck falls asleep not even an hour in and only wakes up when Mark shakes him to eat. Blearily, he opens his eyes to Mark’s face, stringy chocolate brown hair and two pimples, eyes focused on Donghyuck. The unchanging visage of Mark’s face sometimes makes Donghyuck feel like he’s been transported back in time, because if he focused on Mark’s eyes, the slope of his nose, his upturned mouth, Donghyuck could fool himself into thinking that it was just any day, back when they were trainees or rookie idols, and Mark was just waking Donghyuck up for another practice session. It rips into him, the longing for that time, that easy, simple time before things got so complicated. 

Donghyuck looks away from him and to the meal, some kind of unidentifiable meat drowning in brown curry sauce, and they both start eating, as Mark asks if he wanted to have some noodles as well. Donghyuck grunts an affirmative, but only because he knows how much Mark liked seeing him eat a lot. It was a hyung thing, a satisfaction that Donghyuck also feels when Jisung or Chenle cleaned their plates sparkling. Donghyuck shouldn’t be eating much, the release of the movie is only a month away, but Mark always encouraged Donghyuck’s desires, even the less than savory ones. Like eating more than he should, or going back in time. 

Mark’s parents wait for them at the airport. His brother was staying at his fiance’s house which was a few hours away, but he was gonna come by soon to see Mark, too. Mark had told them not to bother, that he could hail a cab to take them home, but his parents had insisted on welcoming Donghyuck the minute he stepped on their homeland. The moment they land, there’s a squirming in Donghyuck’s stomach, the feeling he gets when he feels like he’s done something wrong. He really shouldn’t have come. Even though Mark’s parents assured him through skype that they can’t wait to meet him, would love to host him and show him around, he should have made something up about some last minute schedule. How can he agree to fly with Mark back home and meet Mark’s parents and go to Mark’s brother’s wedding? As if he had some right to all of this, like he had a part to play in this family’s reunion.

Mark interrupts his ruminating, saying, “Hey, we’re going,” with a smile so big that Donghyuck can’t help but smile back. This was only Mark’s second time to go home since debut, the first being right before Mark had turned 20 and NCT had gone on hiatus since SM had decided to focus on EXO before the members had to start going to the military. Unlike Donghyuck, who could go to Jeju more often, Mark knew that the times when he could come home would be few and far in between. He never complained about it, but Donghyuck knew that Mark never let on to any feelings that may get in the way of his work. 

While they’re walking, Mark checks their passports and Donghyuck carries most of their hand carry bags. Mark stumbles a bit, not looking where he was going, and Donghyuck drops one of the bags to steady him. 

“Are you really going to bring your clumsiness with you all the way to Canada, hyung?” Donghyuck asks wryly, Mark punching his shoulder lightly in retaliation. 

The first thing Donghyuck notices is a poster. It was quite big, really, and at first, Donghyuck thought that it might’ve been some fans who wanted to greet Mark home. But closer inspection showed that the poster was a picture of Mark’s family, one that Donghyuck recognized as the same picture that Mark kept in his wallet. It was the four of them, Mark, his brother and his parents, all on a skating rink, posing. Mark and his brother had hockey gear on. At the top, in clear print, said Welcome home, Mark! The poster was held up by an enthusiastically waving couple, and Donghyuck is suddenly so, so overwhelmed. 

Next to him, Mark heaves a sigh, and Donghyuck looks at him expecting maybe a bit of embarrassment, some color flooding into his cheeks at the grand gesture that never really suited Mark, but Mark was smiling wide, looking absolutely touched. He loved it. He looks at Donghyuck and Donghyuck’s breath hitches at how much emotion Mark’s face conveyed, how much love can transform a face. 

When they meet, Mark throws his arms around his mother, who was about the same height as him. His father, a bit taller, ruffles his hair and goes in for a hug right after. Mark’s mother, Sam, turns and looks at Donghyuck with just as much love and excitement as she did when looking at her own son. 

“Donghyuck, it is so nice to finally meet you in the flesh,” she says, holding him tight. She smelled earthy, as if she’d just been tending a garden before heading to the airport. It reminded Donghyuck of Jeju’s forests. Despite himself, Donghyuck can feel a stinging in his eyes, and he closes them tightly. 

“Call me Sam, okay? Or, well, just Mom is fine too since I know Koreans don’t really do first names.” 

“Let’s try Jin first before we resort to Dad, alright?” Mark’s father chimes in, patting Donghyuck’s back. 

Donghyuck feels a bit surprised at how casual they were, how westernized their accents sounded, when they were both full blooded Korean, but Mark had said that they spent their college years in America before Mark and his brother were born and settled in Canada only after Matt turned one, so maybe it wasn’t that surprising. 

“Thank you for hosting me and letting me stay in your home. It’s really nice to meet you,” Donghyuck says, his voice meek. 

“Ah, a polite one,” Jin says, and Mark disguises a snort by coughing, “tell me, son, does that red hair hurt any? I’d been thinking of trying out the Rihanna look myself.” Donghyuck’s hair, which had been dyed red to brown to black to red again, because apparently his image with red hair had stuck, stayed red during the filming of his movie, where the director said that the red had suited his character, anyway. 

“No, dad, you’ll go bald,” Mark protests, looking slightly horrified by the image. Sam laughs and adds, “you also don’t have enough hair or swagger to pull off Rihanna, dear.” 

They’re interrupted when Jin decides to get the luggage and everyone insists on helping, Sam notably shutting any arguments down with the statement “If I can carry Mark around for nine months I can carry 27 pounds of luggage, thank you.” Donghyuck adores her. 

While walking towards their car, Donghyuck whispers, “Did your mom really say the word swagger?” 

“She probably started using it before we did.” Mark admits, chuckling. Donghyuck really only got into it after watching Weightlifting Fairy, anyway. And that was a year after it came out. 

When they get into the car, Donghyuck fixes his seat belt, slapping Mark’s arm away when he tries to help. Fucking offensive, that boy. Just because they’re in another country doesn’t mean Donghyuck has lost all capability of taking care of himself. 

“Alright there, boys?” Jin asks, looking at them in the rearview mirror. Both of them nod, and the car starts. Soon, Donghyuck is absorbed with looking at the unfamiliar landscapes that take over his window. Nothing really stood out from the usual skyscrapers of city architecture, although the streets were remarkably clean. The shine that Donghyuck imagined seeing was probably brought about by the fact that all these streets, this landscape, was Mark’s home. 

“What do you think?” 

Donghyuck turns his head and tenses a little because Mark was unexpectedly close, so close that he must be straining his seat belt, to look out of the same window that Donghyuck was looking at. 

“What do you think? You’ve been away for years, after all.” Donghyuck counters.

“It isn’t that long to a city. I doubt much has changed aside from a few businesses shutting down or opening up. Chain stores, too, so it won’t be a big deal.” 

“There’s a lot of...English.” Donghyuck finally says, looking at the passing road signs, billboards, and building signs that he could probably read and understand but were passing by too fast to do so. Mark bursts into laughter and leans his head forward to say something to Sam, probably about Donghyuck. Sam giggles and then swats Mark’s arm. 

“Hey, we agreed before no English, mister. You’re being rude.” 

“Yeah, don’t be insensitive!” Donghyuck chimes in, grinning at Mark when Mark leans back to his seat. 

“But do you like it?” Mark asks, and Donghyuck looks at him, all earnest eyes and solemn face. Donghyuck suddenly remembers when he watched Mark during High School Rapper, all those years ago, when Mark was sitting down and watching the other contestants, assessing, learning. Mark’s best skills have always been his laser-sharp focus and long-term concentration. Everything else came and developed in consequence of them. 

“I’ve barely seen anything yet. Give it a few days.” 

“No, yeah, you’re right. Guess I’m too excited.” Mark breaks the stare, looking the other way with a small smile. 

When they arrived at Mark’s house, Donghyuck is amazed by how modern it looked. It was predominantly white with some beige accents, and there was a lot of glass, too. It was also not that big, though Donghyuck was probably expecting too much. Mark had already said before that they weren’t rich, just thoroughly middle class, but Donghyuck had thought that Mark was being humble about it. 

Jin helps them with their luggage, and Donghyuck is welcomed into the long hallway by a series of family pictures on the wall, a scrapbook of memories hung to greet them home. Some were of official gatherings, parties and graduations and recitals and swim meets, but others were obviously souvenirs from vacations, with backgrounds of the ocean, forests, and mountains. Mark’s brother, Matt, was also a lot more handsome than Donghyuck had thought, inheriting Jin’s angled jawline and sharp nose. 

“Lots to take in, right?” Sam puts an arm around Donghyuck, peering at the pictures she organized herself. 

“It’s really well put together...mom,” Donghyuck says, tasting the word on his tongue. He also wasn’t sure if he could say anything sarcastic about little Mark that wouldn’t sound insulting. 

“Donghyuck’s good at arranging pictures, too,” Mark says, coming down from the staircase, “he decorated our room with those hanging strings and put pictures up using clips, it’s real nice.” 

“Oh, really? Maybe you’d like to help me add some of Mark’s more recent pictures to the wall if there’s time, then,” Sam says. 

“Oh--of course,” Donghyuck answers, surprised. He looks to Mark, who’s grinning at them both before excusing himself to get more of the luggage from the car. 

After they finish getting all the luggage up, Mark takes Donghyuck on a tour of the house. He points out the dining room, the kitchen, the living room and the bathroom on the first floor, and on the second floor were his parents’ room, Mark’s room, Matt’s old room opposite of it, and the guest room down the hall. There was also a veranda that was closest to the guest room, that was mostly bare except for a few plastic chairs and a foldable table. 

“It’s pretty late, so Mom is asking if you want a late night snack or if you wanna sleep off the jet lag first. Matt’s coming by tomorrow with Kris, his best man.” Mark says, entering the guest room where Donghyuck was unpacking his things. 

“I think I can wait to eat until tomorrow. I’m not that tired, though,” Donghyuck says, closing the suitcase and pushing it under the bed. 

“Okay, I’ll tell her. Dad and I are probably gonna have a beer on the veranda, you wanna come and join us?” 

“Are you sure? I mean, don’t you want to talk to your old man without me around first? Catch up on stuff or reminisce about your brother?” Donghyuck feels that he should at least let Mark talk to his parents alone first before barging in on them. 

“Nah, we’ll save that for the wedding itself. It’s not like I’d have anything to say that you don’t already know, anyway. Plus my dad’s a big fan, he says your voice is the best out of all the hyungs.” Mark says, and now Donghyuck knows he’s just teasing him. Still, he’d rather not, in case Jin had things to say that he didn’t want Donghyuck hearing. 

“I’ll think about it.” 

“Okay, just come out if you decide you want to. Or if you need anything, like extra pillows or blankets. Or if the heater is too low--” 

“I got it, hyung. Don’t keep your dad waiting.” Donghyuck interrupts pointedly, causing Mark to cough awkwardly before leaving, closing the door quietly behind him. Donghyuck falls onto his bed with a hard thud, and wonders if he should wash up or just change into sleepwear before sleeping. 

After a good hour of tossing and turning, he sighs and gets up to wash his face. There wasn’t anything particularly disturbing him, and it was pretty quiet outside, so Donghyuck had no idea why he was still awake for no reason. He usually slept pretty well in foreign places, something Mark and Taeyong hyung both envied him for. Maybe it was the time difference messing with his head. Or maybe Donghyuck just doesn’t want to think about how fucking strange all this is, and how he could have ended up here, in Canada, with Mark’s family, sleeping in Mark’s white guest room, tastefully decorated with a few art pieces of nature like paintings of waterfalls and a lot of horses, and this strange metal thing that looks like a totem. Sort of. Donghyuck wonders if totems could be used as art especially since Mark’s family was Christian, but decides that it really doesn’t bear thinking about at all. 

After another hour passes, Donghyuck gets up and decides to check the veranda to see if Mark and his dad were still there, just to peek in case they were talking about something serious and Donghyuck shouldn’t interrupt. 

When Donghyuck checks, he is greeted with Jin, standing up and reaching for another beer, with Mark nowhere in sight. Donghyuck freezes, wishing he could close the door quickly but Jin is already facing his direction, and he smiles a familiar, infuriating smile so much like Mark’s that it makes Donghyuck want to tear his teeth out because he loves it and hates it in equal measures. 

“Can’t sleep?” 

“Um, yeah, but it’s just--a lot of things on my mind, not the...” Donghyuck gestures to the house, feeling dumb, “the house or anything.” Someone punch him, he sounds 13 again. 

“Wanna join me for a bit? Mark just headed out, sleepy drunk that one,” he chuckles, “you can pick your poison, we have a good variety, or so I’d like to think.” 

“Um, alright,” Donghyuck says, because really at this point it’d be rude to refuse, and Mark should really miraculously come back and sense Donghyuck’s plight but he probably won’t because he’s not nearly as absolutely fully capable as he thinks, that ass, “just one, though.” 

“Alright, come here, my son,” Jin says, beckoning him over with an open can, “let me tell you about Mark’s embarrassing childhood. Or you can tell me his embarrassing teenage life. Or we could do both if you have it in you.” 

Donghyuck chuckles, grabbing a can of root beer, and says, “There’s not that much to say, honestly, Mark-hyung’s the company’s golden boy for a reason.” Even now, when it’s been a year since any of the original NCT members had gone active, Mark and Taeyong hyung were both given a lot of support in producing their own rap albums. At this point, Taeyong hyung’s album sales matched Taeyon noona, and Mark’s was projected to do just as well.

“Oh, you don’t mean that. You know, when Mark was born, we had a hell of a time cutting the umbilical cord. It was in a weird position, and my wife was saying that this kid was definitely going to stumble through life if he couldn’t even come out of the womb properly.” 

“That’s...really gross,” Donghyuck says, laughing, “but I get it. He’s fallen a number of times on stage, though it’s never that obvious or at a live stage where it couldn’t be edited out. He also trips in the dorm a lot.” 

“Now that’s the Mark I remember. It was strange, even though I could see him growing every time we skyped, I didn’t really think about how tall he’d be, though let’s be honest it really wasn’t by that much, it hit me, man, my son’s 25. 25! He’s got a five o’clock shadow and he’s bringing a boy home--” Jin stops, seeming to realize what he just said, then glances at Donghyuck’s frozen expression, staring at the beer can on the table. 

“Ah, you know, it’s alright,” Jin says, “Mark hasn’t really mentioned much to me, but parents get a sense of these things, no matter how many miles apart we are. Neither of us mind, but of course you can come tell us in your own time, we’ll respect that.” 

“No, that’s…” Donghyuck stares at his beer can and briefly wonders if it was the acid in his stomach that was making it hurt, “we’re not like that. I’m sorry.” He wanted to throw up but he knew that nothing would come out. 

“...Oh? Damn, I’m sorry, my wife always tells me I get ahead of myself too often,” Mark’s dad says, though his expression was a strange mix of guilt and disbelief, and Donghyuck knows he isn’t fully convinced. Donghyuck isn’t fully convinced, either. 

“No, I guess it does sort of seem that way, coming home with him for his brother’s wedding and all that.” Even Donghyuck doesn’t really know what he’s doing, in what capacity he was coming into Mark’s family fold. He could have asked why, but that would lead to answers that Donghyuck was afraid to hear. It was safer to go along without asking. It was also just hard to say no to Mark, regardless of his own reservations. 

“Oh, you’re always welcome here, Donghyuck. Whether as Mark’s best friend or something else. We know how well you’ve taken care of our son, and we’re very thankful he has you.” 

“You’re better at speaking than Mark hyung is.” Donghyuck says, hopefully cutting off the previous topic completely. They would be betrayed if they found out what he’d done to their precious son. Donghyuck hopes they never find out. 

“Oh yeah, well I was pretty bad at it before I met my wife. I sort of had to, you know, get with the program for our relationship. It caused a lot of problems before.” Mark’s dad admits, face turning melancholy as he remembered. 

Mark-hyung could take some lessons, Donghyuck doesn’t say, because that just makes it sound like Donghyuck was like Mark’s mom, and their relationship wasn’t like that. 

“Alright, let me tell you about the time we went camping and Matt had fooled him into thinking he was being chased by a bear,” Jin starts, smiling, and Donghyuck allows his voice to lull him away from the rising bitterness that has become a familiar aftertaste when saying Mark’s name.


	2. Day 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Someday, you'll be old enough to read fairytales again." - C.S. Lewis

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello~ Thank you for all the lovely comments and kudos that you've given. It's come to my attention that markhyuck seem quite out of character to what you may be used to reading, but please keep in mind that 1) they're older (Mark is 25, Donghyuck is 24) 2) There is a backstory (as mentioned in the tags) and 3) everything is filtered by Donghyuck's perception and understanding of events. I really hope you can keep that in mind as we continue on. Again, all characters outside of the NCT ensemble are not mine, and thoughts and ideas presented are not necessarily representative of my own. 
> 
> I'd also like to mention three comments, in particular, namely Jena93's, Cecilia's and Chukhahaechan's. You're amazing, and I hope you especially are satisfied with this chapter (and the coming ones). 
> 
> Please enjoy the second chapter!

Mark’s brother comes with his best friend in time for breakfast. Matt announces his welcome with a loud bang of the door and a holler, so completely opposite of Mark that Donghyuck lets a laugh escape as he watches Matt lift Mark up from their hug and twirl him around. Mark is tiny compared to Matt, who is even taller than their father. When they both fall down unto the rug, Mark laughs a full belly laugh in harmony with Jin’s, who was standing next to Donghyuck. He looked ready to tackle his sons himself, but one look at Sam left him standing still and clearing his throat to calm the boys’ excitement. From behind them, a guy with brown skin and long curly hair moves to clasp Jin in a one-armed hug, giving Donghyuck a friendly smile and introducing himself as Kris. 

“Hey, hey, meet Donghyuck,” Mark says, finally getting up from the floor and dragging his brother to where Donghyuck stood, leaning on the dining table. 

“Hello there not so lil bro!” Matt greets jovially, grabbing and squeezing Donghyuck in a hug, not unlike the one he shared with Mark. Donghyuck was a bit taller than Mark but definitely not taller than Matt. Build-wise, however, their bodies were similarly slender. 

“Nice to meet you. Congratulations on your wedding,” Donghyuck says, catching Mark’s eyes from where he was being slightly strangled by his brother. Donghyuck mouthed for help, but Mark shook his head and went to help Sam continue setting the table, the traitor. 

“Ah, thank you thank you. Lottie’s gonna love meeting you, you’re her favorite out of Mark’s group,” Matt grins, “although she also adores the other vocalist...the one who lived in America for four years?” 

“Jaehyun hyung,” Donghyuck says, while Mark chokes on a laugh, the silverware he’d been placing on the table slipping a bit. Sam warns Mark to be careful. 

“Where have I heard that line before?” Jin mused jokingly, clearly in on the joke, while herding everyone to sit. 

“Where have you not heard that line before?” Donghyuck counters, drawing a sharp Ha! from Jin and smothered laughter from Mark. 

Breakfast continues in the same rambunctious manner, Matt and Mark taking turns to regale everyone with their stories. Sam, in particular, looked attentive to anything Matt said about Lottie, mentioning again and again what a shame it was that Lottie couldn’t come stay with them before the wedding this weekend. The drive was just too far, it was unreasonable. Kris demanded that Mark perform a short rap from his upcoming album, Mark barely even finishing a line before he collapses into laughter alone. Both Matt and Donghyuck boo at him. Sam tells him to calm down before he gave himself a stomachache. 

“So your group is inactive right now?” Kris asks. 

“Mhm, sort of. Some subunits are active, but the group we’re in has been inactive for about a year now. Everyone’s been doing their own thing.” Donghyuck explains. 

“Like what?” 

“Well--”

“Donghyuck just finished filming for a movie.” Mark says, cutting Donghyuck off and making Matt’s face transform into an exact copy of how Mark looks when surprised. Donghyuck blinks at the sudden resemblance. 

“A movie star? You’re kidding. We have an actual movie star in the house?” Everyone looks impressed, even Mark who made the comment in the first place. The looks on their faces made Donghyuck’s face feel hot. 

“Ah, not a movie star, exactly, this is only my second movie,” Donghyuck tries to calm them down, before once again being cut off by Mark. 

“Yeah, actually he’s more known for his dramas, he’s been in 3 famous ones now.” Mark announces, grinning sheepishly when Donghyuck glares at him. Below the table, Donghyuck kicks Mark’s feet, causing him to flinch and Sam, who sat next to him, to hide a giggle behind her hand. 

“Oh man, a veteran actor and an idol,” Matt whistles in appreciation, before Jin hits the back of his head and tells him to stop embarrassing their guest already. 

“Oh come on, Donghyuck’s practically family, right?” Matt says, winking at Donghyuck, causing him to splutter. He grabs his glass of water to keep from looking anyone in the eye, but he does catch the quick whack that Jin sends to Matt’s side. He refuses to look at Mark. 

After breakfast, Matt and Kris ask them if they want to come to the suit fitting, maybe get something for them as well. Since both Mark and Donghyuck have suits they brought with them, they decline, but Matt insists that they come anyway, for some brotherly bonding. Mark glances at Donghyuck for approval. Since Donghyuck knows that Mark hadn’t really planned anything, and it didn’t look like Sam or Jin needed anything done around the house, he agrees. 

During the car ride to the shop, Matt points out Mark’s old school. It’s a public school, but really you’d think it was an international school with how big and nice it looked. Donghyuck discretely presses his forehead to the window, trying to get a better glimpse of the inside. 

“We can go and visit sometime, see my old teachers,” Mark says. When Donghyuck glances at him, he has his chin on his palm, looking at Donghyuck with a familiar fond look.  
“And shock them with how ugly you’ve gotten over the years? Sounds like a plan,” Donghyuck says, though he knows that it’s a lie. Mark has been listed as one of the notable alumni in his school’s website for years, with a great picture of him from a magazine photo shoot he had recently. Ten hyung had sent it to Donghyuck’s phone half a year ago. 

By the front seat, Matt snorts. 

When they arrive at the shop, Donghyuck doesn’t feel out of place at all. He’s been to enough of them in Korea, and aside from the Caucasian woman who greeted them at the front, it all looks the same. Matt and Kris both go in the fitting rooms, while Mark and Donghyuck check out the suits on the racks. 

“This looks nice,” Mark says, holding a navy blue suit. Donghyuck looks at it, then shudders. 

“This is why you need a stylist, hyung,” Donghyuck says, narrowly avoiding Mark’s swerving arm. 

“We all have stylists, Donghyuck.” 

“For events and stuff. You need one for life.” 

They’re cut off by Matt coming out, wearing a lovely black suit that fits him perfectly. Mark rushes to get a closer look while Donghyuck sits on the sofa facing them. Mark makes a show of inspecting the suit closely, from head to toe, while Matt grins as he meets Donghyuck’s rolling eyes. 

Kris comes out not long after and was met with thumbs up from all of them. Grinning, he sits down next to Donghyuck, watching Mark and Matt take a selfie. 

“You must be used to this kind of thing, being an idol,” Kris says. 

“I guess so. I mean, I’m familiar with this setting, if that’s what you mean.” 

“Setting,” Kris says, smiling, “you definitely sound like an actor. You a native Korean? Full blooded?” 

“Ah, yeah,” Donghyuck turns to him in surprise, “don’t I look like one?” 

“Nah, you do, but I know those Kpop stars are from all around the world, nowadays, figured I’d ask to be sure.” 

“Thanks,” Donghyuck says. He wasn’t used to that kind of sensitivity, “Are you...I mean, clearly, you’re not native Canadian, but…” he trails off, not really sure. Kris looked South East Asian, but Donghyuck couldn’t identify which. 

“I’m from the Philippines. Well, my parents are. I was born and raised here. Identity-wise, though, I’m pretty Western. I’ve never been, and my parents don’t speak Filipino anymore, so.”  
Donghyuck nods, “We’ve been to the Philippines, for concerts.” 

“Oh yeah? What did you think?” Kris was looking far away, something like longing in his eyes. 

“It was...really hot. No, I’m not kidding,” Donghyuck adds when Kris chuckles, “the heat..was no joke. The pollution was pretty bad, too. But the fans there were amazing, energetic and sang along really well.” 

“Fans,” Kris says, shaking his head, “it’s hard to remember that you two are actually famous. I mean, I know it, Matt brags all the time, and I’ve seen your music videos, but man…” 

“Yeah,” Donghyuck says, looking back to where Mark had been talking to the clerk and Matt, probably about the final touches to the suit, “it’s hard to comprehend without...experiencing it for yourself, I guess.” 

“I get it, man. Some things you just gotta live through to understand.” Kris stands up to join them at Matt’s come-hither gesture, and Donghyuck thinks that Matt’s mannerisms were pretty damn gay, or at least more gay than Mark’s, who was actually bisexual. Then again, that was a stereotype, and Mark had taken several times throughout the years to explain to Donghyuck and the other Dream kids why it was wrong, especially since no one else seemed to really talk about it. 

When they finish, Matt and Kris take off to run some other errands, Matt trying to push some money into Mark’s hands, spending money he said, that Mark immediately shoved into his back pocket with more force than strictly necessary. They spend the rest of the afternoon wandering around the city, having lunch in this nice hole-in-the-wall Thai place that reminded Donghyuck so strongly of Ten hyung that he decided to facetime him during the meal. 

As soon as he opens the video, however, Ten hyung shamelessly asks, “Are you eloping?” and Donghyuck slams the phone so hard on the table that their plates and silverware shiver at the impact. Mark looks at Donghyuck like he’d gone crazy, before cautiously patting his hand as a weak attempt to calm him down. 

“I need a new favorite hyung,” Donghyuck says. 

“...What did I do?” Mark asks, confused, and Donghyuck just can’t. He’ll rant to Jaemin about it before he goes to bed tonight. 

“Seriously, though,” Mark says, twirling the noodles around his fork, “you don’t mind, right? Being here?” He stares at the pad thai so intensely that Donghyuck wonders if he thinks the pad thai would respond, and not Donghyuck. 

“It’s a bit too late to regret anything, right?” Donghyuck asks gruffly and then winces. He didn’t think it’d sound so ungrateful. But he was also tired of this weird dance they’ve been doing since that night they fell out, this dysfunctional play they’ve enacted, locked into a perpetual role of Mark being the offender and Donghyuck being the offended. Because if it was anyone’s fault, it was Donghyuck’s, and any guilt on Mark’s part was unnecessary and convoluted. He wants to snap at Mark every time he shows his beaten puppy dog look, forcing Donghyuck to be the bad guy. Donghyuck knows he’s the bad guy. He doesn’t need to be reminded again and again. 

“Your parents are really great.” Donghyuck finally says. Mark’s expression clears, looking up with a small smile. 

“They love you,” Mark says, his tone a strange mix of pride and self-satisfaction, “they were so excited when I told them you’d be coming, they couldn’t wait to meet you.” 

Remembering their conversation the night before, Donghyuck asks, “What exactly have you told them about me, anyway?” 

“Oh, you know,” Mark gestures vaguely, “I started telling them about you since we met, really. They know everything.” 

“Everything?” Mark pauses at Donghyuck’s sharp tone, backtracking. 

“Ah, not everything of course,” Mark adds hurriedly, “but you know, most things. I don’t really keep secrets from them, you know that.” 

Donghyuck does know. A few summers ago, so long that it might have as well been an eternity when Mark and Donghyuck had been lying down on the grass of Donghyuck’s backyard, he remembered Mark talking about his family, how close they were and how his parents supported and disciplined him with unconditional love. Mark had never doubted their affection, not once. Donghyuck had cried, amazed by the beautiful tapestry of a family that Mark had woven for him. And how his own was so ugly in comparison, worn-through with endless arguments and ripped by hateful words. Tattered, like how Donghyuck sometimes felt when the nights went on too long. 

When they returned to Mark’s house, Jin was out with some neighbors at a nearby neighborhood gathering. Sam assured them he’d be back soon and asked if they wanted to help with dinner. Mark pushed him into the kitchen, saying that Donghyuck was a master at Korean cuisine, much to Sam’s excitement and Donghyuck’s dismay. Still, Sam and he had fun preparing a fusion of dishes, some Western and some Asian, and Sam was as easygoing and lovable as Mark. She smeared a fingerprint of sauce on Donghyuck’s nose with a teasing smile, pouting a bit when Donghyuck refused to retaliate. She was still Mark’s mother, after all, no matter how much like Mark she seemed. 

“You’d make an amazing son-in-law someday,” Sam says, and Donghyuck inwardly sighs. He supposes Jin might have forgotten to tell her about their conversation, but somehow he doubts it. Maybe they’re all deceptively stubborn in their own way, Donghyuck thinks. That would certainly explain where Mark got it from. 

“Thank you,” Donghyuck says, “Mark hyung can cook too, he just pretends he can’t because his inept kitchen skills stuck to his image when we were teenagers. He takes full advantage of it when he can.” 

“Just like his father, that one,” Sam says, snorting, “just the other day Jin said he couldn’t vacuum behind the couch because his back ached. And then a few hours later, he’s jumping and screaming at some hockey game on T.V. Can you imagine? That devil.” Her sneer pulls a drawn-out chuckle from Donghyuck. 

Jin arrives just in time for dinner, a fact that Sam makes clear she finds suspicious by trying to confirm what time the gathering finished. Jin apologizes with a grin, making it up to her by lavishly complimenting the food on the table. Sam flexes in Jin’s direction, making him flinch, and reminds Donghyuck so strongly of his own mother that he flinches a little, too. Mark demands Jin help set the table, telling Donghyuck and Sam to sit and not do anything anymore, since setting the table and clean up is up to them. Donghyuck and Sam agree without protest. 

“Matt will try to make it by tomorrow, as well, but it’ll depend on how the meeting with the caterer goes,” Sam informs them, eyes apologetic. 

“Oh, it’s fine, he shouldn’t stress himself out,” Donghyuck assures Sam, hoping to cheer her up. 

“Yeah, he’s probably already stressed enough as it is with the wedding a few days away,” Mark adds, “anyway, he shouldn’t be accommodating us too much when it’s his big day.” 

Sam nods, though still not completely cheered, and they continue their dinner as Jin tells the story of the recent refugee couple he had met, and how their son can start coming to soccer practice if he joins the carpool schedule that Jin and Sam had set in place for a few other refugees’ children. 

Hanging out in Mark’s room, Donghyuck asks why Sam doesn’t seem as involved with the wedding as much as she wants to be. 

“It’s a bit...complicated,” Mark says, tossing a basketball back and forth he’s had since he was six years old, “Lottie’s from old money. From what I understand, her parents aren’t that keen on Matt. They wanted a lavish wedding, in a grand hotel and all, but Lottie and Matt insisted that they have a beachside wedding, which would be nearer for us and wouldn’t require anyone to go out of the city. Lottie’s parents said yes, but they got to decide everything else. My mom hates lavish things, since it’s a waste of money, so going through the wedding details just stress her out. She doesn’t want to say anything about it though.” 

“That’s not fair,” Donghyuck says, staring at the glow in the dark stars stuck on Mark’s ceiling, “your mom has just as much right to plan the wedding as Lottie’s mom, even if she is the bride’s mother. Matt must be stressed.” 

“Yeah, I think he tries to forget it when he’s in Lottie’s home. Can’t have issues with the in-laws so early, after all.”  
“Well, I personally love the idea of a beachside wedding,” Donghyuck announces, pausing when he notices Mark shifting to sit up on his bed. 

“Yeah? With a sunset view and all?” 

“Well...it’d make nice pictures, I guess, but waiting until sunset sounds kinda irritating.” 

“You’re right...how about a church wedding, then a reception at the beach? You could still have nice pictures.” Donghyuck knows that if he sits up from his position on the bean bag, Mark will be looking right at him. He wants to know what Mark looks like. He also knows that once he looks at him, Donghyuck will say something he doesn’t want to say, something he’s not ready to say. Something he’s too cowardly to confront. 

“...Which beach are we talking about?” Yours or mine, he doesn’t add. The beach in Jeju is gorgeous, but it was also crowded due to the heavy commercialization of it being a tourist spot. Of course, Donghyuck doesn’t know what the beach here looks like, but it’s probably big enough anyway. 

“Whichever one you want.” Mark answers, always the brave one. He imagines Mark under the harsh lights of the stage, shining so brightly that it scares Donghyuck, how he can willingly put himself out there, for the things he wants. It’s probably what inspires fans to do the same for him. 

Donghyuck changes the subject, but while Mark is showering, he takes out a copy of The Chronicles of Narnia #1 from his bookshelf, a book he had read upon Mark’s insistence, and finds his favorite quote, slipping a bookmark on the page and then leaving it at his bedside table. 

But someday, you’ll be old enough to start reading fairy tales again. 

It wasn’t a declaration of love because that would only be redundant. It’s been made clear between them hundreds of times that they loved each other. It was, rather, a declaration of faithfulness. He and Mark fell in love at the spring of their youth, with all the good and trouble that comes with it. Nothing can replace the memories they have. But memories aren’t enough to sustain a lasting relationship. What they needed was faith. It wasn’t exactly in ample supply, with the way Donghyuck went about the last few years. He had lost faith. Mark had seemed to, as well, though judging from his current actions something had changed. Donghyuck, however, was still stuck trying to find it again. Since then, he’d been struggling, trying to build himself up, not let the shame consume him. He figured that Mark could wait. So why was Mark pressuring him right now, without any encouragement from Donghyuck? Regardless, he did owe Mark some sort of proof that he was trying. 

As if hiding behind old storybook words proved anything other than what a coward he was. 

When he faced Jaemin through his laptop screen, his expression must’ve shown something because Jaemin’s first question was, 

“Did you two get into a fight?” 

From behind him, he could hear other muffled voices, Chenle’s and Jisung’s, asking who? Who got into a fight? 

“Children! Skedaddle,” Donghyuck says, groaning. The last thing he needs is for this to get to the other hyungs without his consent, “no respect for their hyung, I swear.” 

“Even Jeno?” 

“...No, Jeno can stay.” A flash of a thumbs up appeared before it was gone again. Jeno was never one to poke his nose into a private conversation, even if it was only a few feet away from him. 

“So,” Jaemin says, straightening his back, “what happened?” 

“Nothing happened, exactly,” Donghyuck says, trying to figure out how to put into words the last two days have been, “it’s more like, a bunch of things happening at once? We didn’t fight.” 

“Oh, okay,” Jaemin says, relaxing, “you’re just overwhelmed, probably. How are Mark’s parents?” 

“Amazing. Really accommodating. Mark’s mother is even lovelier than we thought.” 

“Oh yeah? Didn’t we agree that she must be the loveliest person in the world?” 

“It doesn’t do her justice. We didn’t include other beings outside of earth.” 

“And his brother?” 

“The best brother you could ask for.” 

“So what’s the problem?” 

Donghyuck paused, swallowing. “I think Mark told his parents everything.” 

“What--like, everything, everything? Even that night when you guys--” 

“Okay maybe not everything,” Donghyuck cuts him off, glancing at the door nervously. Not that he needed to, he was on earphones, for god’s sake. 

“But a lot of it. Anyway, they sometimes talk about me like…” 

“Like?” 

“Like I’m Mark’s boyfriend.” 

Jaemin blinks. 

“Oh yeah? That’s nice of them, being so accepting.” 

“Nana,” Donghyuck snaps, “Mark and I aren’t together, remember?” 

“Well, I know you’re not together together, you’ve said that,” Jaemin says, glancing away from the screen, probably to look at Jeno, “but you’re still...you know, kinda together anyway. Right?” 

“Kinda together. What does that even mean?” 

“I don’t know,” Jaemin says, putting his arms up in exasperation, “like you’re, you know. Endgame, or something. Right?” 

“Endgame. Where did you get that from? What books have you been reading?” 

“It’s internet lingo, doofus. But that doesn’t matter! The point is, we all know that you’re going to be together at some point, right? So what if he declares it a bit early to his parents?” 

“So what if--” Donghyuck splutters, wondering if it was possible to choke on air, “Nana. This is not the kind of conversation I was hoping for when I called you.” 

“Oh come on, you and I both know Ten hyung would say the same thing. Anyway, Ten hyung’s the only one you really listen to nowadays, so I’ll save you the trouble and time of calling him. Stop worrying and overthinking things. You’re there for Mark’s brother’s wedding, just enjoy it. Have some fun, okay? Nothing too wild, though, you’re still an idol--” 

“I’ve got it. Thanks, Nana,” though what Jaemin would think Donghyuck could get up to, he couldn’t even ask. Nana gives him a thumbs up and says something about a schedule, telling him to get some sleep lest he still looks as horrible as does now by the morning. Donghyuck swears at him as the line dies. 

He should’ve known Nana would end up being exactly like Ten-hyung, only sassier and less paternal. He was even jokingly called Ten’s successor when he participated in Hit the Stage. Ten took a video with the caption BEHOLD MY SON and shared it in the group chat. After a round of compliments from various members, Johnny hyung proposed a toast and gave a speech, though how he did that online Donghyuck could only imagine. 

Donghyuck lies in bed and lets himself sink into the longing for harshly lit crowded training rooms and repeatedly explaining what their weird ass boy group was called and what it stood for. He listens to their old tracks, Limitless and Fire Truck and Back 2 U, so far away and familiar it sounded like home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's the end of chapter 2! I hope that it's shed some light on their situation even without any direct mention or explanation. Anyway the next chapter will have even more revelations so please keep reading!


	3. Day 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Every man, every woman, carries in heart and mind the image of the ideal place, the right place, the one true home, known or unknown, actual or visionary.” -Edward Abbey, Desert Solitaire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I am back with another chapter. It's quite long compared to the last two, so I hope it's alright. A lot of the backstory is revealed, which is why I now have to repeat one of the warning tags I'd used for the fic namely: 
> 
> Physical/Verbal Abuse- in terms of explicitness I don't think it would be very triggering, however, to be on the safe side please proceed with caution, and remember what you need to prepare in order to cope. Safety first, friends! 
> 
> Finally, a big thank you to all those who commented on the last chapter. Rest assured, I will continue with the fic regardless of whether or not that person keeps commenting. 
> 
> Please enjoy this chapter!

“You’re fucking with me right now.” 

Donghyuck looks at Matt, who made it in time for breakfast, then at Mark, then Jin, Sam. They were all staring at him with similar gobsmacked faces, and Donghyuck would laugh at how similar their expressions actually were if not for the fact that he had a feeling he knew where this was going. 

“No, actually, I’m serious.” Donghyuck looks down at his plate, small, circular waffles with cut strawberries and two strips of bacon. 

“Well,” Sam starts, glancing at the rest of her family, “we simply can’t let this go on. I don’t suppose any of you have plans for the day…?” 

Matt looks at his phone, texts something really fast, then says, “I’m good.” 

Jin also nods, while Mark beams at his mother in gratitude. Donghyuck hopes he chokes on his bacon. 

“Alright, it’s decided then,” Sam says, gleeful, “we’re taking you ice skating.” 

“Mark,” Donghyuck hisses as they all pile into the family minivan, “don’t you think this obsession with ice skating is a bit...stereotypical?” 

“Nope.” Mark says, all but pushing him inside. 

Throughout the car ride, they ply him with questions about how exactly it was possible for Donghyuck to have never skated in his life. All his answers lead to more questions, as if this were such a great mystery that it warranted nothing less than a serious investigation. Matt worries about how hard it is for older people to start skating, since the ideal time to learn was much younger, like with riding a bike. Mark assured him that Donghyuck, due to years of dancing, had great balance anyway, and it should work to his favor. Jin worried that Donghyuck wouldn’t want to fall on his butt so much, being practically an adult, but Sam said that as with learning any sport, a few accidents are only a part of the full, authentic experience. Donghyuck wonders how they could have all this conversation about him without actually including him. 

When they get to the skating rink, it is more and less crowded than Donghyuck had assumed it would be. More because, well, it was a weekday morning. Less because it was Canada, and if he hadn’t given into the stereotypes before, he’d definitely started reevaluating it now. 

Mark helps him figure out the proper shoe size while the others strap up. Matt also rents some hockey gear, egging Jin on. They leave excitedly, leaving Sam to trail after them after tossing a smile at Mark and Donghyuck’s direction. 

“I thought you were all teaching me to skate,” Donghyuck says, looking at the rest of Mark’s family already on the ice. 

“You’d only get nervous with so many people watching,” Mark says, “and anyway everyone has a different style of teaching. They’ll just get into fights about which way is better. Just leave it to your hyung. Later, they’ll applaud you when you can skate without me.” 

Donghyuck severely doubts that his later and Mark’s later are even remotely within the same time span, but he won’t disillusion Mark just yet. 

As soon as Donghyuck’s feet hit the ice, he holds unto Mark’s arm so tightly that Mark winces, but doesn’t move away. He takes Donghyuck’s other outstretched hand, and slowly they start moving. Rather, Mark is moving, Donghyuck is being dragged along with him. 

“Don’t look at your feet,” Mark says, and Donghyuck snaps his head to Mark’s face, who is smiling bemusedly at him. Donghyuck would swat him, except that required letting go of one of Mark’s arms, which he couldn’t afford to do. 

“It’s a bit like dancing, really. Don’t focus too much on one movement. Just feel the ice and keep going.” 

Donghyuck nods, breath coming out shakily. Dancing. He knows how to dance. He’s danced since he was eleven years old. He knows intimately how strong his legs and arms are, how to balance, the exact moment or placement of feet that will steady him and let him keep going. Muscle memory. 

Donghyuck stumbles a bit, Mark steadying him. When their faces come close, Donghyuck hisses, “I’m going to kill you, Mark Lee.” 

Mark laughs, the bastard. 

“You’re doing great, seriously. I would’ve stumbled by now,” Mark assures him. 

“You stumble on dry land. You tripped at the entrance of the kitchen last night!” 

“I wasn’t looking,” Mark mutters, caught off-guard. He had thought that Donghyuck was too preoccupied with his mom to notice that. 

After about an hour of shaky legs going round and round the ice rink, Mark says it’s about time he starts to let Donghyuck go. 

“You can’t let go, Mark Lee,” he’s probably hurting Mark’s arms, judging from Mark’s wincing, but he doesn’t care, “if you let go I will cry and tell your mom it was your fault.” 

“You’re really scary, sometimes,” Mark says, gazing at Donghyuck fondly. Donghyuck could still remember when his expression would make Mark waver, backing down without another word. He misses that Mark. 

“Come on, it’s okay,” Mark coaxes him as if he was some scared, witless animal, “just a little bit at a time, okay? You can do this.” 

“I could punch you.” 

“Good, good, self-motivation, that’s the way.” 

Slowly, ever so slowly, Mark starts to let go. 

Donghyuck falters, but steels his expression, keeping his eyes on Mark. He was so focused on him, in fact, that he hadn’t noticed when Mark had let go completely, his arms only hovering a hair’s distance from Donghyuck’s arms. As soon as he realized it, however, he panics and his butt meets the ice with a hard crack. 

Donghyuck blinks and then Mark is there, hovering over him on his knees, asking Donghyuck if he was alright or if he felt any bruising. From the distance, he hears Sam’s voice telling Mark not to coddle him, to let him stand up on his own. 

Mark’s hands, which had been on Donghyuck’s shoulders, are suddenly gone, but Mark doesn’t stand back up. Instead, he looks straight at Donghyuck and says, 

“Come on. Believe in yourself.” 

Donghyuck stares at him, baffled. Those were the exact words Mark had used hundreds of times, right before the monthly SM singing tests and the stages, before concerts and interviews, before Donghyuck had announced his intention to go into acting into a room full of his hyungs and staff, the people who have supported him all in one room as he asks them to support yet another new dream. He remembers the sweaty hands, piling together to shout Fighting! loud enough to reach the sky. 

Snapping out of it, Donghyuck grunts, muttering wise-ass under his breath and heaves himself up, carefully so as not to lose balance. Mark stands up with him, never faster or slower. His perceptiveness always helped him stay in sync with his dongsaengs, making sure not to leave them behind. Donghyuck starts again, his arms reaching for Mark without realizing it. 

He gets a full circle in when loud whoops and hollers come not just from Mark’s family, but a small crowd of girls at the other end of the rink. Fans, Donghyuck realizes. He and Mark wave in unison, which was returned tenfold and with a bit of squealing. Donghyuck calls out a thank you, bowing, and a few throw him a thumbs up. 

They go a few more rounds, sometimes with Sam, sometimes without. A few times, Matt tries to get Mark to play with him and Jin, but Mark refuses with a smile, never straying too far from Donghyuck. Donghyuck insists that he’s fine, especially with Sam, but is cut off when a random hockey skater skids near him, startling him with the harsh sound of the blades stopping. Mark is by his side in a flash, calling the hockey player out and telling him (in English) to be careful. The player acknowledges them, putting his hands up in what Donghyuck assumes is an apologetic pose. He smiles to show that he’s fine. 

When they have lunch at the food court, Jin recounts how Matt totally fell on his butt while trying to steal the puck from him. Matt denies anything of the sort happening. They praise Donghyuck for learning quickly, just under 2 or so hours. Matt promises to teach him to go faster when they get back on the ice. Sam reminds them to stretch first before going back to the rink. 

When they get back on the ice, Donghyuck insists that he wants to watch Mark play with his dad and brother. Mark looks unsure, but Donghyuck knows that he’s excited, too. Since it’s uneven, Sam agrees to team with Mark. As Donghyuck watches them race around like pros, Donghyuck remembers the picture that Mark keeps in his wallet. They must’ve spent a lot of time here, for all of them to be as good as they are, Sam and Jin barely any slower than Matt, and definitely faster than Mark, who had gotten rusty. 

Matt comes up to Donghyuck after the game, grinning, “Mark’s pretty rusty, but he’ll get better with practice.” 

“I don’t doubt it,” Donghyuck says because of course Mark would be good at it, too. He was good at practically everything. 

“Here, let me teach you a bit,” Matt says, glancing at Mark who was being tag-teamed by Sam and Jin. Both of them were ignoring Mark’s loud protests about how unfair they were being. 

Donghyuck goes back on the ice with Matt’s hand on his shoulder, but he quickly lets go once he’s sure Donghyuck has his footing. Soon, Donghyuck is following Matt who is skating backwards, just like what he did with Mark. Then, Matt starts moving faster, just a little, and Donghyuck follows. Sometimes he’d stop abruptly, making Donghyuck startle and lose his footing. It was fun, like a very slow version of Cat and Mouse. 

“I’ll bring Lottie by before the wedding so you two can meet,” Matt says. 

“Oh, it’s alright. I’m sure she’s busy with the wedding planning, she doesn’t have to go out of her way,” Donghyuck says, bothered. Mark had already met Lottie since they had been dating when Mark had gone home years ago, so Lottie would only be coming for Donghyuck. As Mark’s friend, Donghyuck really had no right to impose like that on them. 

“Nonsense. Lottie’s been dying to meet you, she even tried to escape a meeting with the florist, but her mom’s secretary came by so she had to abort mission. She was pretty vocal about how disappointed she was in Mark for not bringing you home sooner.” 

“Oh,” Donghyuck rubbed his nose, “I’d love to meet her, too. Mark’s said a lot about her, he’s accepted her as a sister a long time ago.” 

Matt nods, pleased. His brother’s absence was hard on all of them, but Mark always went out of his way to stay updated of their lives, even chatting with Lottie online on his own. In fact, Lottie probably knew some things that Matt didn’t, if her insistence in meeting Donghyuck was any indication. 

“So, how’s Canada been so far? Do you like it?” 

“Yeah. I mean, I haven’t gone out much, but everything I have seen has been great. To be honest...it’s really just nice to go out without being recognized,” Donghyuck reluctantly admits, unsure if he was coming off as too cocky or ungrateful. He loved his fans, but sometimes he didn’t feel like a person anymore, just something to be gawked at and followed around. 

“Right, right. I remember when Mark was approached by some fans when he came home last time, it was a real shock for all of us. But Mark handled it like a pro, I kept thinking, man, who is this kid? Making women swoon left and right.” Matt laughs, shaking his head as he recalled it. 

“But you know, I really do appreciate you coming all the way here for my wedding. Mark says you’ve been busy with acting, and I told him not to insist if you can’t, but I really wanted you there, not gonna lie.” 

“Wait, you were the one who wanted me to come?” Donghyuck stops moving at that revelation, bewildered. He’d figured Mark wanted him as his guest, or whatever else intentions he had in that head of his. 

“I brought it up first, yeah,” Matt says, sheepish, “I thought it’d be good for Mark to have someone come along, and, well, we’ve all wanted to meet you for the longest time, so why not hit two birds with one stone, right? “ 

Donghyuck, while looking at Matt’s face, is hit with the realization that he and Mark’s parents, Mark’s whole family, knows how Mark feels for him. Maybe not the details, the issues or the fights, but they do have some sense of what he means to Mark. They were trying to help him, Donghyuck realizes. Trying to figure out, in their own way, how to make Mark happy. 

This is family, he thinks. A real family, not just people who you live with or are blood-related to, but people who care for you so much that they factor you into everything they do. People who, despite not knowing exactly what’s going on or what they could do to help, try their best by you anyway. 

“Hey, you okay?” Matt asks, worried, “I’m sorry if I overstepped or something, I can get kinda nosy, but you’re not that upset about being here, right?” 

“No, no,” Donghyuck clears his throat, swallowing the lump down, “I was just thinking how lucky Mark is, to have such a nice family.” 

Not everyone was so lucky. 

“Well, you can have us too, if you want,” Matt says cheekily, “we can all adopt each other, be family. Our country’s into that, you know.” 

Donghyuck wonders how it could be so easy, to be accepted into another family. Growing up, he’d always thought that family was just someone you have to put up with, stick to, no matter how much they hurt you. No matter how much you hurt them. Like chains, with the keys in his parents’ pocket. They can adjust the length, the tightness, but they’d never let you free. 

“Yah!” Matt suddenly shouts, startling Donghyuck. Donghyuck looks at him, but Matt’s looking far off, towards where Mark and the rest were playing. No, not playing, they were huddling, talking to someone. A woman, with short red hair and pearl earrings that glinted under the ceiling lights. The woman looks straight at them and waves excitedly with both arms. 

“It’s Lottie,” Matt explains, grinning, “she must’ve escaped her mother’s clutches somehow. Knew sending pic after pic of the rink would motivate her to think of something.” 

Lottie skates to them at a very fast pace, so fast that Donghyuck finds himself instinctively inching away. He blinks when Lottie slams into Matt with a yell, Matt whooping. 

“Someone escaped from the tower,” Matt says, pushing Lottie’s hair away from her face. 

“The dragon had other princesses to imprison,” Lottie says, in (shockingly) good Korean. She turns to Donghyuck, a smile occupying practically half of her elfin-like face. 

“You must be Donghyuck, it’s so great to meet you!” She says, pausing when Matt elbows her before continuing, “Oh, I’m Lottie! Matt’s gorgeous bride.” 

Matt snorts, looking put upon. Lottie flicks his shoulder. 

“It’s nice to meet you. Mark’s told me a lot about you,” Donghyuck says, though Mark had left out the fact that the girl was a total ball of energy. Even when she was standing still, she was jumping slightly, like she was flexing her feet over and over. She was clearly itching to skate more. 

“Wanna tag-team Mark and Matt?” 

“Ah..I just learned to skate this morning, sorry,” Donghyuck says, suddenly regretting not learning earlier. Lottie deflates, her hopes of challenging Matt and Mark to a match evaporating. She brightens up again quickly, however. 

“How about I spin you around a bit? That was my favorite thing to do when I first learned skating.” 

She tugs at Matt to help her demonstrate, staying in the center as she spun in place and, with her outstretched arms connected to Matt’s, made Matt go round and round without him doing anything. 

It looked safe enough, so Donghyuck agreed. He let her grab his arms, though she paused to look in Mark’s direction and called an I’ve got him! to a swiftly advancing Mark. Matt meets Mark halfway and pats his shoulders, though he also seemed to be stopping him from going nearer. 

She starts slow, helping Donghyuck get used to it first, before going faster. Donghyuck lets out a breathless laugh, clutching her arms tightly because wow, this was so much fun. And it made him a bit dizzy, too. Not too much, though. He grinned as he watched the revolving scenery of the ice rink, the scattered families playing around, the small class of young girls marching in a line as they followed their instructor. It was pretty relaxing, too. 

Suddenly she goes a bit faster, and Donghyuck, who had practically stopped even thinking of minding his balance, feels his knees lock in surprise before he trips sideways, landing on his hip. Lottie immediately apologizes, bending down to check on him, and Mark was suddenly in his line of vision, asking if he was okay, and when did he get there? 

“Sorry, sorry,” Lottie says, chuckling a bit as she helped him up and dusted his outfit a bit. She turns to Mark, whose expression was a bit strained, then sighs and says, “Mark, come on, we can’t bond with you hovering over us like a mother hen.” 

“She’s right,” Donghyuck says firmly, “go and play with your family, hyung. Noona and I are bonding.” 

Mark nods, turning away, but not before Donghyuck caught the sour face he made when he was being teased or doing something he didn’t want to do. He probably refrained from saying anything for Lottie’s sake, anyway. 

They start again, slowly. Donghyuck, this time, focuses on Lottie’s face, her wild curly red bob and the smattering of freckles on her cheeks. 

“Your Korean is really good.” 

“Yeah, I studied a year in Korea back in college. That was a long time ago, though. I don’t even want to mention the kpop groups who were famous then or you’ll realize how old I am.” 

“How did you meet Matt?” 

“We took some classes together. Well, only one elective, actually, since I was in engineering and he was in music composition. Arts and Sciences, you know,” she pauses, “how did you meet Mark?” 

“We met through the company our group’s under, SM. He was there earlier than me, but we were assigned to perform a duet together.” 

“Oh, wow that’s a long way back. You’ve spent most of your lives together, then?” 

“Yeah...yeah, I guess we have.” 

“That’s nice. I always envy that kind of childhood friendship. I would have loved to have grown up with Matt, you know? See what he was like before.” 

“I guess so. I mean, it’s nice to have so many memories, but…” Donghyuck blinks, wondering what it would be like if he had met Mark later, maybe in their late teens, “I think meeting later on has its merits, too.” 

“Hmm...yeah, you’re right. I was a real bitch when I was a kid, Matt would have wanted to kill me,” Lottie says, face lost to recollection. 

“Really? That’s hard to imagine,” Donghyuck says because Lottie literally hasn’t stopped smiling since they’d met. She seemed like a totally bubbly, easygoing person. 

“Oh, yeah,” Lottie shakes her head, “I had a lot of pent-up energy, going nowhere, you know? I can channel it differently now, but before, whew, I had to take up boxing to manage myself better. I was so angry, you know, especially since my mom--” she cuts herself off, seeming to snap out of it before laughing, “sorry, I don’t usually just rant about my family issues to someone I’d just met. I hope you’re not too uncomfortable.” 

“Ah...it’s fine,” Donghyuck says, though he did feel a tiny prick of awkwardness. People weren’t nearly as open in Korea, but then again Lottie was clearly an open person, maybe even more open than the usual Western standards. Plus, the wedding must be doing a number on her nerves, if her desire to escape was any indication. 

“My mom, um,” Donghyuck says, startling even himself, “she was kinda. Overbearing, I guess? She had...a lot of opinions about, um, everything, really.” He licked his lips, wondering when his mouth had gone so dry. 

“I feel you,” Lottie says, eyebrows scrunched in sympathy, “parents can be really critical. Sometimes they just don’t realize how much they affect us, you know?” 

Donghyuck thinks of his mom, hovering over him and scrutinizing whatever it was he was doing. His dad, who never said anything to him since he found out what Mark was to Donghyuck until it was finally too late to say anything at all. The both of them, standing over him as he eats dinner, shouting at each other over the same issue, their anger spilling over to Donghyuck when he made a noise or looked at them in the eye. 

“Yeah,” Donghyuck agrees, voice no louder than a whisper, “they really don’t.” 

By 4 pm, the whole family had gathered to play a very simplified version of hockey, one that accommodated Donghyuck’s skills. Mostly, it meant that when the puck was with Donghyuck none of them did anything to try and steal it from him, cheering him on as he tried to score. When he did get one in, Mark looked so proud that Donghyuck punched his shoulder in embarrassment. 

Before they leave, Sam calls for a family picture. 

Donghyuck blinks, looking at Mark who had been resting by the railing. Mark grins at him and offers his hand out. Donghyuck hesitates, but shakily accepts and allows himself to be taken to where the rest were, Sam asking one of the skaters to take their picture. 

Donghyuck tries to stay on the side, but Mark won’t let go of his hand, even as he tugs away. Mark goes straight to the center, Jin and Sam at either side, then Matt slips in with Lottie next to Donghyuck. They squish together, everyone putting their hands behind the back of the person next to them, and Donghyuck tries to catch Mark’s eye before the camera goes off but he’s looking straight ahead. 

When they’re done, Sam thanks the skater and shows them the picture. It was basically an aged-up version of the family picture they had, plus Donghyuck and Lottie. Staring at it, Donghyuck can’t get over how they looked like a real family. 

“You alright?” Mark asks, looking at Donghyuck as they head back to the house. Donghyuck had been quiet, not participating in the conversation at all. Donghyuck smiles at him, whispering that he was a bit tired. Mark offers his shoulder in case Donghyuck wanted to sleep, and Donghyuck, exhausted both physically and emotionally from the long day, accepts the offer without further thought. 

Dinner was a bit more subdued than breakfast, despite Lottie’s cheery laughter and incessant rambling about the wedding details that she really couldn’t care about, Matt seriously, they should have just eloped when they had the chance. Sam fusses over Lottie in a way that Donghyuck hasn’t seen before, her torso practically sideways as she talked to Lottie who was seated right next to her. Mothers are really different with daughters, Donghyuck supposes. 

All in all, it was a relaxing end, that is, until a woman with midnight black hair styled in a harsh bun and an office attire came in, Matt (who had opened the door when the doorbell sounded) trailing after her with a pale face. 

“Mom,” Lottie stood up, fork clattering noisily on the plate, “I didn’t know you were coming.”  
“Neither did I,” the woman, Lottie’s mother, said. Her face resembled Lottie’s, but with such a furious expression that anything other than the barest of similarities was wiped out. Sam and Jin both stood, greeting her and asking if she’d like to have dinner. 

“I’d like to talk to my daughter in private,” she said, eyes sweeping over the table in a way that made Donghyuck want to sink into his seat. Mark’s hand was on his, he realized. When did he put that there? 

“You can use the garden, Ira,” Sam said, face stiff. Lottie shot an apologetic look to her before going out, her mother following with sharp clacks of her heels. 

“Well, there’s no need to waste the food,” Jin said, sitting down and signaling for everyone to continue eating. Matt glanced at the door leading to the garden every two to three bites. As soon as they were done, Mark asked to excuse him and Donghyuck, who Sam had hugged and apologized to before letting go. Donghyuck insisted that she not feel bad about it. 

They go into Mark’s room again, though Donghyuck briefly considered begging off to sleep. But first, he wanted to make sure that Mark was okay. They sat down on the rug, and Mark turns the television on so they won’t hear them talking, something he’d done since they moved to their new dorm two years ago, all the rooms equipped with their own television. 

“Sorry about that,” Mark says, and Donghyuck nods without turning his head away from the screen. Neither of them was facing each other, but he knows Mark can see him nodding his head. 

Donghyuck nudges him, and said, “Come on, are you really apologizing for getting me caught up in your family drama?” 

Mark chuckles, shaking his head. They’re both thinking the same thing, remembering the same memory from years ago. Donghyuck had, once upon a time, also gotten Mark into his family drama. And Mark had answered in such a way that convinced Donghyuck--if he wasn’t before--that he was in love with him. 

Just after Donghyuck had turned 20, they received a break long enough for the ones who lived not too far from Korea could go home. Mark couldn’t, nor Johnny hyung, but those from China like Chenle or Thailand like Ten hyung could. When Donghyuck found out that Mark was going to be staying in their dorms because the relatives he usually stayed with were on vacation, Donghyuck invited Mark to come home with him to Jeju. 

At first, Donghyuck was excited. He had a lot he wanted to show his Mark hyung, the beaches and the forests and his old school and playground, and that restaurant whose owner always gave him a discount as long as he sang her a song. He was even excited for Mark to meet his parents, though his dad hadn’t really been coming home according to his mom, and his mom herself was also stressed because she was fired from her job for a mistake she hadn’t committed. He doesn’t know why he didn’t think about those times when they would fight, explosive screaming matches lasting well into the night. He supposes it was because it’d been a long time since he’d come home, and with only his dad’s nice texts and his mom’s sweet voice from the phone, it seemed easy to forget how they were like in the confines of their home. Anyway, it wasn’t that Donghyuck had an unhappy childhood, per se. He had all the trappings of one, his dad teaching him how to play football and his mom cooking and packing him delicious lunches every day. But underneath that was an undercurrent brought around by the shifting tides of their financial situation, and money was always a strong factor in everything they did and said, including their disagreements. 

When they had arrived, his mom welcomed Mark with a feast, and they had a dinner that lasted four hours, as he and Mark recounted numerous stories for his mom. His mom had seemed delighted, loving every story and listening attentively to their words. His dad was at work, his mom said. He’ll be by later to see you, she promised. 

The first few days went by without a hitch, and Mark professed to love Jeju in a way he didn’t love Seoul. The expanse of wild nature was beautiful, and the sparse population made the fields, which they roamed around in without seeing anyone for hours, look like the opening scenes of a movie. However, it became clear that Donghyuck’s mom was struggling, forgetting to cook meals on time or leaving laundry outside out to get soaked in the rain. Donghyuck and Mark stayed longer and longer in the house, helping his mom with housework, and finally, Donghyuck’s mom asked him to take care of it while she looked for some odd jobs she could do. Donghyuck agreed but tried to shoo Mark off and let him stay in his room out of guilt. He didn’t want Mark to do so much work. Soon, Donghyuck’s mom was barely around, and when she was she’d stay in her room or ask Donghyuck to do more chores. Sometimes, she’d hover over Donghyuck and tell him what he was doing wrong, with the dishes or the laundry or the cleaning. Thankfully, she refrained from doing it when Mark was around, but Mark stayed by Donghyuck so frequently that Donghyuck knew she would slip. 

Finally, while both Mark and Donghyuck were doing dishes, Mark accidentally drops a plate after Donghyuck surprises him with a loud clap right next to his ear. The sound of glass breaking and splintering shocks them both, and suddenly Donghyuck’s mom is there, appearing like a phantom, staring at the plate in shock. 

“Mrs. Lee,” Mark says nervously, “I’m really sorry--” 

“You brat,” Donghyuck’s mom says, face contorting, and Donghyuck quickly shoves Mark aside as she raises her hand and backhands Donghyuck. 

Beside him, he hears Mark stifle a gasp, but he couldn’t bring himself to look at him. Instead, he looks at his mom, apologizes, and gets the dustpan to clean the shards from the floor. Donghyuck’s mom leaves without another word. 

Wordlessly, Mark takes the dustpan from Donghyuck’s shaking hands and cleans the rest of it. Then, he gets some ice to help with the quickly bruising cheek, pressing it to Donghyuck’s frighteningly impassive face. He tries to get Donghyuck to sit down, let Mark take care of the rest of the dishes, but Donghyuck shakes his head. 

“Let me,” Donghyuck says, “it’ll help.” 

Mark steps aside and they finish the dishes together. Later, when they’re both in Donghyuck’s room, they hear the sounds of Donghyuck’s dad arriving, and the screaming begins. Donghyuck, who had been lying on his bed, jumps at the sound. Mark takes his earphones from his bag and puts them in Donghyuck’s ears, hushing him. He falls asleep to his hyung’s voices crooning in his ear. 

Later, when he wakes up, instead of the futon being next to the bed, he sees Mark’s futon by the door, blocking it. Keeping him safe. He muffles his crying by biting his pillow, an action he had done thousands of times before, but he had thought he’d stopped when Taeyong hyung had gotten up from his bed, crossed their room and kneeled by Donghyuck’s bedside and stroked him to sleep. 

The next morning, Mark asks him if he wants to cut the trip short, head back to Seoul and stay in the dorms instead. They could have fun, just the two of them in the dorms. Johnny hyung had gone to Thailand with Ten hyung, anyway. He can tell that Mark wants to get him out of the house, or at least away from his mother, who had prepared an elaborate breakfast to apologize. Donghyuck had smiled and told his mom it was okay, but Mark had stayed silent and only offered a tight-lipped smile to her.

Donghyuck shakes his head because they’d already bought a round-trip ticket and changing the date would cost some money that Donghyuck frankly didn’t have, not that he would tell Mark that. Mark insists on doing more housework and does his best to make Donghyuck laugh by acting goofy or being clumsier than usual. His futon is always by the door whenever Donghyuck wakes up after midnight. 

Donghyuck’s dad finally joins them for dinner at some point, but he reeked of alcohol so it was more of a let-down than anything else. Donghyuck had wanted to talk to his dad more, ask him how he was doing. He’d had a hard time after losing his job as a teacher, working as a contractual factory worker. He had long hours, but when he came home he’d wink at Donghyuck and call him his star. He wasn’t prone to any sort of physical aggression like his mom was, but his voice when angry could shatter glass. And, when fighting with his mom, they competed over decibels, something ugly appearing on his face that seemed to only come out when he was duking it out with his mom. During dinner, he seemed mostly closed off, withdrawn, and Donghyuck didn’t want to risk starting something with Mark around. 

Mark must have known him better than he thought, because one night when Donghyuck wakes up at around 2 am, Mark’s futon is empty. Figuring he’d gone to the bathroom, Donghyuck goes down to the kitchen to get a glass of water. Instead, he is met with Mark and his father at the dining table. His dad is sitting, with some cans of beer open, others empty, and Mark is standing not far from him, his back to Donghyuck. 

“--I don’t know what you want from me,” Donghyuck’s dad says, words slurred and rough. 

“I just think Donghyuck might benefit from talking to you, Sir,” Mark says, using a voice that sounded remarkably like the one he used when talking to one of his dongsaengs, “it’s been hard on him.” 

“Hard on him?” His dad snorts, before swallowing another gulp of beer, “what, it’s not enough that he’s living it up in Seoul, following his dreams? He can’t even stand to be in this poor house anymore, too used to the star treatment?” 

“That’s not what I mean,” Mark says, struggling to keep his voice even, “it’s just that he...misses you, Sir, and it’s a rare opportunity for him to be home--” 

“Misses me. He misses me? Really? It’s not enough that his mother dotes on him every time he calls? He needs me to hold his hand, too? He needs to grow up, is what he needs to do. I’ve got a job, several jobs, just to get him through school, let him live his life the way he wants even though God knows we’re not anything like you or those other trainees he’s become friends with, and he still wants to complain about--” 

Mark cuts off his rant with a swift, “Sir, I think you’ve had enough alcohol,” advancing towards him as he tries to take the beer away from his dad’s swaying hand, only to stop when his dad slams his hand on the table, shaking all the beer cans and making one spill. Donghyuck jumps then moves forward without looking at his dad to grab Mark’s arm and pull him away to his room. 

“Donghyuck,” Mark whispers once they get back to his room, eyes wide and shaky,“ I’m sorry--” 

“Why did you talk to him?” 

“I just wanted to let him know how you--” 

“That’s not something for you to say, Mark, Jesus Christ! What if he’d lost control and tried to hit you?” 

“He wouldn’t have,” Mark says, though a flicker of his eyes told Donghyuck that he himself wasn’t completely convinced. 

“You don’t know them, hyung, you have no idea what they’re like! You think you can just, march in and mediate like this is some team meeting, like they’d just listen to you cause it’s you talking, of course everyone listens to Mark, golden boy Mark--” 

“Donghyuck, come on,” Mark says, holding Donghyuck’s arms tightly, trying to steady him. When had he started shaking?

“They don’t even--” his voice breaks with a sniff, “they don’t even listen to me, I’m their son, their son--”

Mark locks him into a tight embrace and they fall unto the floor, Donghyuck folding in on himself as he sobs into Mark’s lap. 

“Why won’t they listen to me?” The words come out like icicles, sharp and jagged, scraping Donghyuck’s throat and leaving blood in his mouth. He sounds like a child, his voice returning to the pitch it was before puberty. Like a whiny brat, complaining to his Mark hyung about one of the other hyungs being mean to him again. 

Mark hushes him, like he does all those times before, stroking his back comfortingly as Donghyuck cries. After a while, Mark usually makes Donghyuck sit up and then squish his face in between his hands, making him laugh with silly expressions. Now, though, Mark doesn’t force Donghyuck to look up or move at all. He stays where he is, tells Donghyuck it’ll be okay, hyung is right here. 

Donghyuck cries, and the last thing he sees before he falls asleep is the moon outside his window, a pale, barely-there crescent, hanging tiredly in the darkness. 

Mark wakes him up with breakfast in bed the next day, filled with food he likes, and takes him around the town like a native. They go to the restaurant that Donghyuck likes, and Donghyuck sings while Mark raps about how beautiful Jeju is. They receive a round of applause from the old timer’s in the store.

They go down to the beach, where Donghyuck’s mother is collecting sea urchins, and surprise her with food. She’s delighted, and teaches them how to collect urchins, too. They compete over who can get the most. Donghyuck wins, but only after “accidentally” tipping Mark’s bucket over a few times. Mark chases him around but doesn’t retaliate. 

One night, after another spectacular fight, Donghyuck wakes up to Mark looking down at him, his face inches from Donghyuck. Donghyuck gets up out of reflex and bumps into Mark’s head, and they both groan. 

“What are you doing, creeping on me like a stalker?” 

“I was gonna wake you up, actually,” and before Donghyuck could scoff, “there’s something I want to show you in the backyard.” 

They go down quietly, and when they enter the backyard, he finds that there is a mat on the uneven grass, the one they use for picnics, and a table with a projector and Mark’s laptop. Donghyuck suddenly remembers the scene from Love Rain, where Yoona is proposed to through a slideshow of the first snow of Hokkaido. Irritated at himself, he pinches Mark’s arm. 

Mark ushers him to sit down, putting a finger to his lips to remind him to be quiet before he could start ranting about Mark’s idiotic ideas. 

Then, on the white wall of his house, appears the earth. 

Literally. 

“Holy shit,” Donghyuck says, standing up, “is this real?” 

“NASA streams from the International Space Station, so it’s sorta real, but we’re looking at one of the older videos cause the one right now is just black.” 

Donghyuck stares at the image, entranced. It was so blue. He hadn’t realized that the ocean was such a deep blue before. The strange cloud patterns distracted him, moving in random directions. He peered closer, wondering if he could spot Korea. Without realizing it, he was right by the wall, his mouth open slightly as he took it in. 

“What do you think?” 

Donghyuck turns to him, blinking quickly to regain moisture in his eyes, “Can we see Korea?”

Mark nods, typing something into his laptop, and they zoom in a bit until Donghyuck recognizes the familiar shape from maps he had to look at for Geography class. 

“There we are.” He finds the tiny island of Jeju, a tiny speck separated from the boot-like protrusion of Korea, like an afterthought. 

The image zooms out and then zooms back in on another location, this time close enough to have a bird’s eye view of the country, a million twinkling lights that looked exactly like the scenery from their flights at night. 

“Here’s Thailand.” Donghyuck stares hard at it, as if by doing so he could somehow pinpoint where Ten hyung and Johnny hyung were, if he looked hard enough. They held a showcase there, as SM Rookies. The first time such a large crowd of fans gathered for them. Donghyuck hadn’t known anything, back then. 

“We’ve been to most of the countries to the east of it, too. Remember our SEA tour?” 

“Yeah. Vietnam had the best noodles.” Donghyuck still craves it, from time to time. None of the Vietnamese restaurants in Seoul were good enough. 

It zooms out again, and then suddenly it’s in an area that Donghyuck doesn’t recognize. 

“This is Canada. Where my family is.” Donghyuck grazes the wall with his fingertips, staring at the vast expanse. Where were Mark’s parents, in this image? It was impossible to tell, but they were there for sure. Somewhere. Were his fingers touching the area they were in? 

“And LA, where Johnny hyung’s parents must be.” The image switches again. 

Mark continues on, zooming in and out of places they’ve been, or places where their members are or came from. Places they received fan mail from or fan made dance videos. Places with people who buy their albums, who tune in and chat with them on V-live. 

Indonesia, where a girl had given him a flower and thanked him for making her laugh. 

Japan, where a man proposed to his girlfriend during their concert. 

Mexico, where a Korean immigrant father had gleefully informed them that his daughter finally started learning Korean after getting into their music. 

Hong Kong, where some street musicians had stopped what they were playing to do a slower rendition of one of their songs, and a crowd of fans who had been tailing them gathered to sing. Taeyong hyung couldn’t stop crying. 

All these places they’d been, all these people they’ve met and even the ones they haven’t, but loved them and supported their dreams and wished them health and happiness. 

“A worldwide group,” their manager had explained to them when they first debuted. Members from all around the world. On Donghyuck’s 20th birthday, they sang to him in Korean, Chinese, English, Thai, and Japanese. Told him to stay healthy, live a long life, be a good hyung. Taeyong hyung had told everyone this was the last time they can call Donghyuck their maknae (he hadn’t been maknae for three years, actually) now that he was an adult. Jaehyun hyung smeared cake on Taeyong hyung’s face, effectively wiping away his “serious expression that’s bringing down the whole mood, hyung.” 

The image stops zooming in. Mark is suddenly next to him, and they’re both illuminated by the light of the projector, lit up in blue and white. Their silhouettes against the wall, fitting into the image seamlessly. There were clouds on Mark’s legs and feet. Like Superman. 

So handsome. 

“I’m sorry you got caught in my family’s mess,” Donghyuck says, turning to face him. 

“I’m sorry your family hurts you,” Mark replies, stepping closer. 

“I’m sorry you can’t see your family more than once every few years.” 

Closer. 

“I’m sorry that your house doesn’t feel like a home.” 

And closer. 

“Is that why you showed me this? To show me that any part of the world could be home?” 

“Donghyuck--”

And closer still. 

“‘’--wherever you are, you’re always home.” Because you’re with me.

Donghyuck looks at Mark’s face, the plains and ridges, dips and curves, the landscape he knows so well--and comes home. 

When Donghyuck wakes up in Mark’s guest room at around midnight, he’s not surprised. The habit often comes back when Donghyuck thinks too much about his family. And all day, in the skating rink, meeting Lottie, taking that picture, up to assuring Mark that he’d be fine sleeping on his own before leaving for his room, he’d been thinking of family. His family, Mark’s family, family in general. How families came together--or broke apart. Not just through death or birth or marriage, but in little ways, little cracks widening through time. 

When he goes down to get a glass of water, he’s surprised to see through the window by the kitchen counter that Lottie and Matt were in the garden, and even from the kitchen, he could hear Matt lip syncing to what Donghyuck thinks is a Britney Spears song. He added extremely exaggerated and dramatic gestures, funny and a bit obscene, Lottie dissolving into fits of laughter on the grass. The scene makes Donghyuck smile, and then remember how Mark stayed up with him when he can’t sleep, but instead of gratitude Donghyuck had just felt guilty, telling Mark that he should just go to sleep without him. Did he even thank him for staying up with him the last time it happened? 

Donghyuck couldn’t remember.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the interest of full disclosure, I'd like to say I've never been to Jeju or Canada, so I'm sorry for any inaccuracies. I also don't know how to play ice hockey, though I do know how to ice skate. I don't think that the Space Station stream can zoom in or out because what you see depends on the location of the station, but there might be some other NASA videos that can do what Mark did. As far as I'm concerned though, it's fictional. 
> 
> Aaand final note I was really excited to write the First Kiss scene I hope I did it justice lol. Please comment what you think or leave a kudos~Until next time!


	4. Day 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "...Here is to their children, to the children who despite it all become artists, writers, teachers, doctors, lawyers, activists, and rebels. Here's to international money transfers. For never forgetting home. Here's to their children who carry the heartbeats of their motherland and even in sleep, speak with pride about their fathers. Keep on." -Ijeoma Umebinyuo, First Generation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To commemorate the christening of our fandom last night, here's a new chapter for everyone! But honestly I was supposed to post this last night, Donghyuck's visuals just kept distracting me. 
> 
> Again, characters (excluding NCT) are mine, and all the opinions in the fic don't necessarily represent my own. 
> 
> Please enjoy the chapter!

Both Lottie and Matt are gone by breakfast, and Sam apologizes again to Donghyuck, but Donghyuck cuts her off with a hug and rushes to help her with breakfast. Sam seems surprised but touched at the gesture, and she and Donghyuck jam to Red Velvet while making pancakes. Inspired, Sam puts ice cream on top of the pancakes, along with some chocolate sauce. Donghyuck gives her two thumbs up for the creation. 

While eating, Jin suggests that they go to Mark’s old school. Mark seems taken aback but Donghyuck quickly agrees, so Mark’s opinion becomes unnecessary.

“I actually got a call from Mrs. Ribiero, do you remember her?” Sam says. 

“My 2nd-grade teacher? Of course! She made me seriously consider being a writer,” Mark says, and Donghyuck sort of remembers him talking about her before to Jaehyun hyung. They were talking about how they were lucky to have such inspiring teachers and how it molded them into who they were. 

They really were like twins. 

“Well, she heard that you were back and asked if you’d like to come by, see her and the other staff,” Jin says while trying to steal some more ice cream from Sam’s plate. Sam, after trying to inch her plate away from her husband, seems to give up and lets him take as much as he wants. 

“You can come by at around 3 or so, when classes end,” Sam continues, smiling at them both. 

“Until then, you boys should go around the city some more. Your mom and I are going to Lottie’s house for wedding stuff.” 

Mark and Donghyuck exchange a look.

“Is everything alright?” Mark asks. Sam looks at them with an amused expression. 

“Everything’s fine, dear. The wedding is a day away, we just need to finalize seating arrangements one last time and practice where we need to walk.” 

“Boring stuff,” Jin clarifies, and Sam snorts but doesn’t disagree. 

For the morning they go to Stanley Park. They take the Stanley Park train, where Donghyuck gets to see the mountains and greenery up close. Then they go biking by the seawall, and it was so breathtaking Donghyuck would stop every few kilometers to snap a picture, much to Mark’s amusement.

When they go to have lunch, Donghyuck is tired enough to consider napping right after until they had to go to Mark’s school. While eating, a timid voice interrupts them. 

“Um…” a girl, not older than 14 in a hoodie and jeans, holding an NCT album in her hands, says, “you’re...I’m sorry for interrupting your lunch...can I...have your autograph?” 

Both Mark and Donghyuck break into smiles, Mark asking her for her name as Donghyuck takes the offered album and pen. 

“It’s Yuna,” she says, “I’m from Jeju, actually. But we moved here when I was 10.” 

“Jeju?” Donghyuck repeats excitedly, “I’m from Jeju, too.” 

“Yes, I know,” Yuna says, then seems embarrassed to have said it. 

“How are you finding it here?” Mark asks. 

“Oh, well,” Yuna takes the signed albums back, “it’s...nice. There are a lot more Asians than I thought. But English was hard to learn.” 

Mark nods in understanding, “Yeah, the Asian population makes up more than 50 percent of Vancouver, actually. You’ve made friends?” 

“Yeah! They’re into Kpop too, actually. I met them when lining up for your concert!” 

Mark and Donghyuck look at each other, both their mouths an identical o, making her giggle. 

“I’m glad for you. Take care, okay?” 

Yuna nods feverishly, “Yes. You too. I can’t wait for your movie, Donghyuck-shi. I also--I hope you can come back on stage soon. If possible.” 

“Oh, for sure,” Donghyuck says confidently, “we’ll see you then, okay?” 

Yuna waves, and both Mark and Donghyuck watch her go back to her parents, who had been waiting outside the restaurant. 

They look at each other, and without speaking they both know what they’re thinking: They missed performing on stage. 

“Let’s go back on stage soon,” Donghyuck says, and Mark nods. For all that producing and acting have been enjoyable and a great learning experience, they were idols first. Performing live on stage is in their blood. 

“I hope Yuna can consider Canada her home, too, if she doesn’t already,” Mark says. 

“Relating to her?” Donghyuck asks. Donghyuck knows that Mark has a special soft spot for young fans who’d just emigrated from a far away country. He always asked them how they were doing, if they’d made friends or if they liked their new school. 

“Yeah. Assimilating into a different culture can be pretty painful without the right people and support, you know?” 

Donghyuck thinks about when they first started, how delighted Mark was to talk in English when he met Johnny hyung and Jaehyun hyung for the first time. The foreign swaggers. Sometimes, Donghyuck had felt jealous of their bond, demanding that they speak Korean, feeling left out. Mark must have felt that a hundred times, though, before his Korean was up to par. 

“Good thing we were in an industry with people all around the world,” Donghyuck says. It astounds him, sometimes, the things Mark went through to become an idol. And how he didn’t--or couldn’t--comprehend it, when they had met at the age of 13 and 14. 

“Yeah, it really helped.” 

“Honestly though, Canada seems to be really diverse--definitely more than Korea--so I wouldn’t worry about her too much,” Donghyuck says, hoping to reassure Mark who had been looking out of the window, lost in thought. At his words, Mark nods decisively. 

“Yeah, it isn’t so bad here compared to other places. But you know, even when my friends were warning me about how, well, discriminatory Korea or other Asian countries can be, I still imagined…” 

“Imagined what?” 

“Imagined it would be familiar. Like...I dunno, I think all children of immigrants have this part of them that wonders about their parents’ home country. You know? I knew bits of it, Chuseok and rice cakes and all, and it seemed so mystical to me when I was young. I told my classmates and teachers I was Korean, but I didn’t really know what that word meant, aside from the food and the music and pointing it out on a map. Before I left for Korea, it sorta felt like I was coming home, in a way.” 

“Home? Really? To a place you’ve never been?” 

“To a place that I had always thought of as mine.” 

Donghyuck sips his juice, chewing on the straw as he turns Mark’s words around in his head. Mark had mentioned feeling confused, before, about his identity, how strange it was to be called Canadian in Korea when he’d referred to himself as Korean in Canada. To Donghyuck, he’d always chalked it up to Mark missing home, which was, of course, Canada, and the struggle of building a new home in Korea, with NCT and Donghyuck. Of course, when Mark had shown him the world in his backyard and told Donghyuck that he was always home, he’d thought he was referring to how they can build homes out of people, families out of strangers. But maybe Mark was also referring to something else, a more complex comprehension of what home really meant, and all the forms it could take. 

“It’s a bit like Narnia,” Donghyuck says, making Mark pause in confusion, “I mean, they went to another world they found in their closet, right? But in the end, Narnia was a kind of home, too. They found something in themselves there that they wouldn’t have found in England.” 

Mark nods slowly, then more quickly, smile widening as he thinks about Donghyuck words. 

“Yeah. Yeah! That’s right. Our Narnia,” Mark says, looking pleased and proud and--well, a bit smitten, really. Donghyuck flushes. 

“Finish your food, Mark Lee,” Donghyuck flicks a pea at him to make him stop looking. 

They arrive at Mark’s school a little past 3 since the bus was quite full and they had to wait for the next one since Donghyuck had no desire to be squished and at the mercy of a moving vehicle when he was still full from lunch. 

Mark pauses by the entrance to talk to the guard, who seems to recognize Mark instantly. He gives Mark a warm hug and tells Donghyuck that his wife watches Donghyuck’s dramas. Donghyuck bows gratefully and offers to sign something for his wife if he’d like. The guard is delighted, and thanks Donghyuck in advance for the hearty meal his wife is sure to cook him when she finds out. 

Mark takes him to his old classrooms first, since the lower grade building is closer than the faculty and administration building. Most of the students were gone, some only staying for extracurriculars and club practice. 

“Look at this,” Mark points to a drawing he’d made, a simple one that shows a boy on a desk writing in a notebook. Floating around him are trees, four other people, and a lion. It was displayed with other works on the board, arranged by year. 

Donghyuck peers at it, then laughs, “That’s Aslan, isn’t it? You were seriously obsessed.” 

“I had just started reading it, in first grade. Well, my parents read it to me when I was 4, but it’s a different experience when you read it on your own. I wrote my first short story about Aslan when he was a cub, you know.” Mark laughs, remembering how he had folded several bond papers in half to make pages, and putting drawings at the bottom after the paragraphs. 

“Do you still have it?” 

“What?” 

“The story, Mark. Is it at home somewhere?” 

“Oh, I’m not sure actually. My mom might have kept it, though.” 

Donghyuck nods, resolving to look for it when he has the time. Mark’s first story--it’d be nice to see. 

They continue roaming around, Mark pointing out the chair he used to sit on or the bench where he’d read when it wasn’t too sunny out. When they get to the upper levels, Mark says they were allowed to choose seats and Donghyuck held his hand up, wandering around the classroom to search for the one Mark would have chosen. 

Mark wouldn’t stay at the back, but he wouldn’t be at the very front, either, since he wasn’t comfortable with too much attention without the idol persona. Their seats in SOPA were assigned, so Mark usually being at the second row didn’t really mean anything, but Donghyuck could guess that he liked being towards the middle of the classroom more, maybe the third row to accommodate his eyesight. He could like looking at the sky, but it might distract him from studying, so not the window seat. He goes to the opposite side, near the wall, and upon seeing the small bookshelf he grins and points to the table right next to it. 

“This one. Right?” 

Mark, who’d been watching Donghyuck silently, graces him with the look of fondness that Donghyuck has more or less associated with Mark’s eyes whenever they reflect Donghyuck’s image. He approaches Donghyuck, leaning in so close that Donghyuck stiffens a bit, caught off guard by Mark’s boldness.

“It’s the one in front of, actually. My teacher had smaller handwriting than most.” 

Donghyuck huffs and walks out of the classroom quickly, hoping Mark didn’t catch his reddening face. Once he hears footsteps, he breaks out into a run, going down the hallway and hopping two steps at a time down the stairs. He can hear Mark calling out to him, probably wondering what Donghyuck was doing, but Donghyuck doesn’t mind it, coming all the way out of the building and collapsing on the newly cut grass of their soccer field. He breathes in, the smell of the sun and the grass and Mark’s unique smell when he’d come so close. He’s just imagining it now, but he swears it’s still there, lingering teasingly at the very end of his nerve cells. It ignited so many memories, of Jeju and their dorm and all the other places where Mark had gotten close enough, too close. It’s been more than a year since that night, and this was the first time Mark deliberately even attempted to invade his personal space. 

Above him, the clouds toddle along, calming his heartbeat and evening out his breaths. He hears the thud of Mark lying down next to him, his heaving breaths intruding on the growing silence that Donghyuck had started being acclimated to. It fits, with how easily Mark could break Donghyuck’s peace, disorient him and shake him up, just by breathing. 

“Should I apologize?”

“What for?” 

“For coming so close without your consent,” Mark says. 

Donghyuck turns and lifts his torso up, ready to snap at Mark and derail this conversation, but a shadow falls on them both, cutting him off mid-breath. 

“Enjoying the sun, boys?” A woman in her 40s, dressed in a pale peach sari, looked down at them with an amused but slightly reprimanding look that reminded Donghyuck of his third-year teacher, patting his shoulder to wake him up when he’d fallen asleep during class. 

“Mrs. Ribiero!” Mark stood up and engulfed her in a hug, the woman laughing as she reaches to pat Mark’s head. She was shorter than both of them, but her manner was so stately that Donghyuck felt shorter than her, anyway. 

“Mark, it’s so good to see you. You look so handsome now,” she said, palm on Mark’s cheek. Mark shuffled, thanking her and reciprocating her compliment, saying how she lovely she looked. 

“This is Donghyuck, my best friend,” Mark introduces them. Mrs. Ribiero bows first, startling Donghyuck who had started to bring his hand up for a handshake. He recovers quickly and bows back. 

“Come to the faculty for a bit, the teachers would love to see you both,” she says, and they march to the faculty building, Mark in between them and asking Mrs. Ribiero about her family and how they’re doing. 

In the faculty room Donghyuck meets Mark’s other teachers, his favorite being Mrs. Quinn, who must be at least 80, with a perpetually bent back due to osteoporosis and had grabbed Mark by the ear to bend him down so she could get a good look at him. She pinches his cheeks in a way that made even Donghyuck wince and told Donghyuck that her grandson can dance to all their songs. Donghyuck expresses his flattery, and she pats Donghyuck’s knees but doesn’t make him bend down, much to Donghyuck’s relief and Mark’s irritation at the injustice of it all. 

They all talk for a while, reminiscing on Mark’s student days where he excelled in pretty much everything (not surprising) and once had to read out loud a rap he’d been writing when he was caught working on it during class (more surprising). After about half an hour, Mrs. Ribiero stands up and asks them if they want to come with her to the auditorium to help her carry the projectors back to the tech room. On the way there, she asks to stop by the bathroom and both Mark and Donghyuck wince at the scattered blades of grass on the back of their clothes, helping each other get them off and fixing their hair a little. Mrs. Ribiero, who was waiting outside, offers Mark some concealer for his pimples, which confused Mark to no end and made Donghyuck snicker, because even his teachers couldn’t stand to see such ugly ass zits. Donghyuck insists that he accepts, and they cover it quickly. 

When they get to the auditorium, it becomes much clearer why Mark had to put some make-up on, because all the seats were occupied by people, holding NCT light sticks. 

“Oh shit,” Donghyuck curses, hiding behind Mark and wishing he’d fixed his hair more, but Mrs. Ribiero laughs and assures him he looks wonderful. Mark hadn’t moved from his position when he first saw them. 

The cheers grow louder very quickly once they realize that the two boys have entered, calls of Welcome home mixing with shrieks of their names. Mrs. Ribiero tells them that these were just students who happened to be fans and knew that they were coming. 

“Your leader, Taeyong? Suggested it to your parents first, then when your parents agreed they contacted the principal.” 

Donghyuck looks at the students, smiling and cheering for them excitedly, light sticks waving. He looks at Mark, who now has a microphone in his hand, courtesy of Mrs. Ribiero. She offers him one, too, winking before saying, “Go and greet your fans, Mr. Idol.” 

Mark is waiting for him by the stairs leading up to the stage, though his eyes are on the fans, waving at anyone who meets his eyes. They go up the stage together. 

“To the world--” Mark starts. 

“This is NCT!” They finish together. 

“Oh, gosh...to think that you guys prepared all this…” he trails off when realizes that they probably don’t understand Korean, glancing at Mark who translates what he said immediately. 

Mark and Donghyuck alternate talking, allowing fans to ask some questions about what they’ve been up to, Mark translating for Donghyuck. Mark reminisces about his school days, sharing stories about teachers and sports events. 

“Can you tell us about the upcoming movie?” A fan with twin pigtails and glasses that reminded Donghyuck of the ones Mark used to wear in high school asked. 

“Sure! It’s, well, it’s a love story about a hopeful Olympian who lost his shot when he got injured and his childhood friend--who’s still aiming for the Olympics, by the way.” 

As the crowd ooh-ed in excitement, Mark ooh-ed with them into the mic, causing Donghyuck to swat his arm, Mark narrowly avoiding it by jumping sideways. 

“Haechan’s become quite the heartbreaker on screen, hasn’t he?” Mark called to the crowd, laughing when his question was met with a resounding, scattered yes. 

“Will you, um, will you give us a sneak peek? If it’s alright?” Another fan asked, repeatedly glancing back at the girl next to her who was squealing and tugging her arm excitedly while seated. 

Donghyuck pauses, thinking. He could do a short part from the trailer, since that had been out for months. Then, getting an idea, he smirks and nods his head. 

“Sure...but only if Mark plays the leading lady.” 

At that the screams turn deafening, resounding throughout the auditorium and almost drowning out Mark’s bewildered what? 

“I don’t know the lines?” 

“It’s fine, it’s fine. I’ll do most of the talking, just...stand there and look pretty.” 

Mark shoots him a suspicious look, but Donghyuck ignores it. Being on the stage ignited something in him, a lightness in the air he’s only ever felt when playing as NCT’s Haechan, not Donghyuck. And it was a role, no less than any of his other parts in dramas or movies. His favorite role, and he was definitely going to perform his very best. 

The crowd quiets down as Donghyuck’s facial expression changes into a more serious one, channeling the character he’d been playing for just over 4 months. The role took a lot out of him, made him think and feel things that were familiar to him, but cast in the light of a new persona, with his own ideas and thoughts and opinions. Still, the raw feelings came out easily; the yearning for a dream, the desperation to come out on top. The shock of having that dream vanish, like a rug being pulled under his feet. The denial, the anguish. The pain of loss, the emptiness of wandering. And, through it all, a person who’d been there from the very beginning, who loved him, took care of him, fought for him. Who stayed, even when he deserted everything, including himself. 

Mark’s arms hung loosely at his sides, watching Donghyuck in anticipation. 

“Don’t stand there and pretend you know what I’m going through. Don’t lie to my face and tell me that it isn’t over. You saw me at the gym. I couldn’t even make it past a meter--what’s the point? I can never go back there. I have nothing.” 

“That’s not true.” Mark’s voice tugs at Donghyuck, piercing through the ragged edges of Donghyuck’s performance. His fingers twitch, as if restraining himself. In a carefully measured step, he comes closer to Donghyuck, eyes heavy with the firm resolution that convinces anyone to trust him. 

“You’ll never have nothing. You have me.” 

Breaking into a devilish smirk, Donghyuck says, “Is that how the script goes?” 

Mark startles, blinking slowly as he glances at the cheering crowd, as if he’d just woken up. 

“Our Mark’s quite the romantic, isn’t he? He’ll break into the acting scene yet.” Donghyuck winks at him, much to the delight of the crowd. 

As the excitement dies down, they agree to one performance, a duet where Donghyuck will sing and Mark will rap. They perform a track from their last album, originally performed by Taeyong hyung and Jaehyun hyung. The crowd sings and--to their amazement--raps with them, waving the light sticks. Donghyuck wishes they could film this to show to the hyungs when they go back home. 

As they wave goodbye, Donghyuck catches sight of Jin and Sam, who are at the back with Mrs. Ribiero. Sam is holding a light stick, waving it as energetically as the fans. Donghyuck feels such immense gratitude that he wants to run up to her and hug her. He doesn’t, because that would bring attention to them, but when they meet outside he does jump a little while enveloping her in a tight hug, murmuring thank you. 

“I cannot believe you guys pulled this off. SM would usually never allow it without our managers present,” Mark says. 

“Yeah, well thank your Taeyong hyung. He’s the one who got the yes from your company.” Jin clasps Mark’s shoulder, telling him what a good job he did. A real pro. 

“Your voice was absolutely beautiful, Donghyuck,” Sam says, catching Donghyuck off guard, but he recovers quickly. 

“I’ll sing for you anytime you want, mom,” Donghyuck says, “my voice won’t croak, unlike some people I could mention.” He pointedly doesn’t look at Mark, smiling sweetly at Sam even as he ducks from Mark’s swiftly approaching hand. 

“Come on, you guys must be starving after that. Let’s go out for dinner.” 

After saying their thanks to Mrs. Ribiero and promising to take care of themselves, they head to a popular pizza place, owned by a family friend. 

The place was a bit fancier than Donghyuck would have guessed, with cloth on the tables and elaborately carved wooden chairs. Mark pulls a chair for Donghyuck like Sam does for Jin, making Donghyuck raise an eyebrow. Mark ignores his look and pushes the chair hard enough to make Donghyuck’s knees bend on their own, grunting as he fell unceremoniously on the chair. Mark rushes off to his own chair before Donghyuck could think of retaliating. 

The owner of the place turns out to be Spanish, but says that he knows all the Italian trade secrets, darling, and Donghyuck is inclined to agree because the pizza was the best he’d ever tasted. 

As they eat and recount what they did for the day, Donghyuck couldn’t help but notice how Mark was continuously putting food on his plate, telling him to try this shrimp or ask if that sauce was better than the other one. He’d even flagged a waiter down to get Donghyuck more water before Donghyuck realized that his glass was empty. Other than that, however, Mark didn’t act or say anything out of character, and neither Sam nor Jin appeared to have noticed, so Donghyuck tried to ignore it. However, something in his expression must have soured, because Sam had asked if he was maybe feeling ill. 

“Oh, no no--I’m fine, really, I think I’m just too full,” Donghyuck says, trying to play it off as nothing even as they all turn to him in concern. 

“Are you sure?” Mark asks, “I shouldn’t have asked you to try so much food, it’s just that we don’t eat here often and I wanted you to try out all the stuff I liked--” 

“Mark, seriously stop,” Donghyuck says, voice sharper than he’d intended. His irritation surprised all of them, and suddenly Donghyuck feels a gnawing in his stomach, because why couldn’t they just let it alone? Why did they have to be concerned about every single thing? In Donghyuck’s house, no one would have minded a little raising of voice--

He breathes, trying to school his expression into something more pleasant. The conversation continues hesitatingly, their voices even quieter than before, as if Donghyuck would be set off if they talked louder. When they finish, and Mark asks if he and Donghyuck could go for a walk before heading home, without even consulting Donghyuck who was right fucking there, both Jin’s hug and Sam’s kiss to his cheek is met with a tight smile and a tense silence. 

As Mark and Donghyuck walk side by side to the way home, Donghyuck feels the screw in his chest loosening slightly as the chilly night air envelops him. The hairs on the back of his neck stand on end, trying valiantly to preserve what little heat his body produced. He welcomed the slight shivers down his spine, as if the cold could help cool his temper, slow his mind down. Suddenly, there is a heavy weight on his back and an unwelcome heat, and he stops walking, staring blankly at the sleeves of Mark’s coat draping his front. 

The heat spreads down his back, and in his head.

“Mark Lee,” he says, voice shaky, “get your coat off me right now.” 

Mark’s face, looking at Donghyuck with concern, quickly changed expression into that of alarm at what Donghyuck had just said. As if he’d never even considered that maybe Donghyuck wanted to stay cold, because how can he when he has Mark and Mark’s coat to save his day? 

“Donghyuck...what--what did I do wrong?” 

With all the acting that Donghyuck’s done, you’d think he’d get better at controlling his temper and his emotions. You’d think he could, at the very least, contain the swelling anger pulsing through his veins, so he wouldn’t lash out like a child with no concept of self-control. You’d think. Donghyuck had thought, too. 

As he grabs Mark’s coat off him and bunches it in his arms, shoving it to Mark’s chest, Donghyuck decided that no amount of acting in front of the camera would ever prepare him for these kinds of scenes in real life. With Mark, in front of Mark, Donghyuck can only ever be himself, his bratty, temperamental, shameful self, and isn’t it tragic how the best side of him never comes out in front of the person who deserves it the most? 

Mark takes the coat and rushes to follow Donghyuck, “I know you’re angry, but we have to talk about this. I mean, how can I know what I did if you won’t tell me? How can I apologize?” 

“An apology? Do you really think that I want--that I deserve--an apology?” 

Mark looks at him, lost and so, so confused, like a boat left at sea with no compass to point to shore. Donghyuck wants to shake him, point out how, if he’d thought about this reasonably, he’d know that it was Donghyuck who owed him an apology. Acting like that in front of his parents, what was he thinking? 

“If you would just...answer my questions instead of countering them--please, I’m trying to understand.” 

So do I, Donghyuck thinks. He wants to understand why--why he’s like this, why he can’t hold on to good things without wanting to destroy it, ruin it, like his family was ruined. Why he looks at nice people and begrudges them their kindness, their concern, because don’t they know that Donghyuck is different from them? He isn’t nice. He isn’t patient, like Mark, or accommodating, like Sam. He can’t just keep up this front, this role, without slipping up, without showing them what he was really like. 

And he did. 

“I want to go home,” Donghyuck says, face sullen. He couldn’t deal with Mark, deal with telling him all the things he’s sworn to keep inside forever, “I still have to apologize to your parents for ruining dinner.” 

“Donghyuck, come on,” Mark says, voice hard and uncompromising, “you didn’t ruin anything, okay? Yeah mom and dad are worried, but it’s not like you hurt them. They just want to know that you’re okay. I want to know if you’re okay. I just. Why won’t you talk to me?” 

“Would you even listen?” And Donghyuck knows it’s a low blow, regrets it even as it comes out of his mouth, because it’s not true. Mark has always listened to him, just--that night. 

Mark’s expression shuts down so quickly that Donghyuck knows he’s remembering the same thing, the same fight. He wants to take it back, say that he didn’t mean it like that. He doesn’t blame Mark, because no matter what Mark did, it was Donghyuck who started it. Donghyuck who provoked him and forced him to lose his temper, forced something out of Mark to bring him down to Donghyuck’s level, angry and out of control. 

Mark is never more than a few steps away from him as they walk home, but Donghyuck has never felt more alone in his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry to end it on a sour note, but it's all for build up. I wanted to explore Mark a bit because I find that aspect of idol culture--leaving home so young to pursue your dreams--so fascinating. I've always wondered how it impacted their identity and self-concept. Anyway--why can't markhyuck touch each other? What is this fight that Donghyuck keeps referring to? All will be revealed in the next chapter! 
> 
> Also, can you believe that Narnia ended up being such a useful metaphor? I had no idea lol


	5. Day 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You are at once both the quiet and the confusion of my heart; imagine my heartbeat when you are in this state.” -Franz Kafka, Letters to Felice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I have returned with a new chapter! This is the longest chapter so far (and probably will remain the longest, if I have anything to say about it) because it contains the backstory and climax. So this is what you've been waiting for, really. Because it contains the backstory, I must now reiterate the last few warning tags in the fic: 
> 
> Signs of Depression and Anxiety- In terms of explicitness, I think it's potentially triggering. Of course, that's arguable, but again please review your coping strategies just in case, or wait if you're not in a good headspace right now. There will be a PANIC ATTACK in this chapter, during the flashback, if you don't want to read it please skip the last fight scene altogether, because there are enough clues throughout the chapter for you to still understand what happened. 
> 
> Minor Character Death- don't worry about this one lol the character won't be missed 
> 
> Grief - in reaction to the death, and will relate to the first warning of depression and anxiety. If you don't want to read about it, you may stop once you read who died and then skip the rest of the flashback. 
> 
> Controlling Relationship- this is again in relation to the first warning tag, but I think in terms of build up you'll get a sense of where to stop if you don't want to read it. I don't think it'll be potentially triggering but ofc, that's arguable. 
> 
> That's it! Please enjoy the chapter and I hope you find the long wait worth it!

Donghyuck wakes up to a gentle voice, and a warm hand on his shoulder. 

“Honey,” Sam says, “I know it’s a bit early, but Jin and I have to be at Lottie’s by 7, do you think you can help make breakfast?” 

Blinking away the sleep from his eyes, Donghyuck sits up quickly and says, with a hoarse voice, “Mom, I--” he cuts himself off as a large lump presses against his throat, as if it’d been gathering there all night, while he was asleep. 

“Hush, enough apologies,” Sam says. 

When they’d arrived home, Donghyuck had gone straight to Sam and Jin to apologize for his rude behavior. They had accepted it quickly, hugging him tightly and asking if he was alright, but it had only spurred Donghyuck to apologize even more. He didn’t deserve their forgiveness, their kindness. They had asked him to sit with them in the veranda for a while, but Donghyuck had wanted Mark to have some time with them alone. He fell into a fitful sleep, wondering if Mark was telling his parents what had happened, or if he kept it to himself, stewing on their argument and Donghyuck’s behavior. Donghyuck couldn’t decide which was worse. 

Instead of telling Donghyuck what to prepare like in the last few mornings, Sam leads Donghyuck to the refrigerator and asks him what he wants to make. Surprised, Donghyuck checks the ingredients and thinks of what to cook. Usually, the members would eat leftovers from last night’s dinner, reheating it so as not to waste food. 

Finally, he says, “maybe we can make bagels? Pizza bagels.” 

“Perfect,” Sam nods decisively, immediately bringing out the ingredients from the cupboards. 

As they prepare the food, Sam talks about the final wedding preparations, about how worried she is that something will go wrong after all the effort that’s been put in. 

“I saw the dress Lottie’s going to wear, and let me tell you, if I were in that thing I wouldn’t even go near the food table out of fear that it’ll just jump out and stain the dress.” 

“It’s a lot of pressure,” Donghyuck says. 

“Oh, definitely. I told Lottie that she’d look beautiful no matter what, so she wouldn’t stress out too much--she’s been monitoring her weight, and it’s ridiculous, how she had to get thinner just for that dress. When Jin and I got married, I got him to unbutton the first two holes in the back so that I could eat as much as I want, you know? Good thing, too, I ate practically the whole afternoon away.” 

Donghyuck imagines Sam and Jin’s wedding, something small and intimate and simple, knowing the couple. It wouldn’t have been lavish, but it would have been beautiful in a different way. 

“Where did you two get married?” 

“Oh, we had it in the garden, actually--right over there,” Sam points towards the window over the kitchen counter that allowed them to see out into the garden. 

Amazed, Donghyuck peered outside as if seeing it for the first time. A wedding? Right in their own house? He’d never even considered a house to be an option for a wedding. It seemed too informal, almost inappropriate. 

“But--I mean, wasn’t Matt already…?” 

“Yes. We’d gotten a certificate filed in New York, but we’d been busy with work then and it would have been impossible to fit a wedding in when we were planning to move anyway, so we waited until we moved here. It was perfect, too--I’d always wanted to be surrounded by my own flowers when I got married. My mother was a florist, you know.” 

Sam’s hands had stopped moving, face wistful as she remembered. Walking through the garden, surrounded by the fruit of her (and her mother’s, for she had taught her everything she knew) hard work, and then joining hands with the man who, in her eyes, was her biggest and most fulfilling project yet. Aside from her children, of course. 

“It’s like a fairy tale,” Donghyuck says. The more he looked at the flowers outside, blooming proudly, the more he felt that the garden had transformed to something ethereal. He remembers Matt and Lottie outside when he’d gone down to get a glass of water, the flowers reduced to a slight outline of moonlight as they laughed against its backdrop. 

Hoping to find words to comfort Sam about the wedding, he says, “I saw Lottie and Matt outside by the garden the other night. Matt had been dancing to--um, Toxic? By Britney Spears. Lottie was laughing so hard she was kneeling on the grass.” 

Looking away from the window, Sam snorts, “Oh, I’ve seen that particular performance. Matt had a phase, you know. In fact, I had some videos that I wanted to put in the wedding video--” she pauses, “but it didn’t make the cut, sadly.” 

Donghyuck could only imagine what kind of videos reached the standards for Lottie’s parents. He feels his anger swell at how unfair Lottie’s parents, particularly her mother, was being towards Sam. They were the kind of rich people Donghyuck really hated but unfortunately had to sometimes deal with in the idol industry; entitled people, who acted like their money was more important than people’s feelings. Who thought they could wave around some cash and disrespect anyone who couldn’t flaunt their wealth like they could. 

“I wish Lottie didn’t have to deal with her mom’s expectations on her wedding day,” Donghyuck finally said after a long minute of struggling. Truthfully he had some choice words he wanted to let out, but showing his anger wouldn’t help the situation any. Besides, Sam has probably had enough of Donghyuck’s emotional outbursts. And anyway, he wasn’t really one to talk. Even after cutting contact with his mother, he still lived beneath the shadow of her expectations every day. Children never broke free of their parents. Not really. 

“Me, too, sweetheart. But what’s important is that Matt and Lottie are together, and that definitely calls for a celebration, don’t you think?”

“Yeah, for sure. They seem really great together.” They fit together the way Johnny hyung and Ten hyung did, or Taeyong hyung and Jaehyun hyung. Acting silly with each other, being themselves so unabashedly--it was amazing, how some people can make you more yourself, somehow. Because they accept you so wholeheartedly, the layers naturally peel away. 

“Not a day goes by that I’m not thankful they found each other. A mother can only dream of her sons finding such love, you know.” Sam looks at Donghyuck, eyes so full of affection that Donghyuck could barely stand to look at her. Mark probably hadn’t told her about their fight. Not the one last night, or the one that happened more than a year ago. 

Hoping to set the record straight, Donghyuck says, “I hope--I hope Mark finds that kind of love, too.” 

Sam blinks, before nodding consideringly and humming an agreement. Donghyuck doesn’t think about the message conveyed in that look, that gesture. 

He already has, hasn’t he? 

When Mark comes down and sees Donghyuck sitting with his parents, a strange look passes his face even as he fights to show neutrality. Donghyuck wonders if Mark is surprised by Donghyuck’s presence, as if he expected Donghyuck to sulk in his room because of their fight and not come out to eat. He’s done that back in the dorms, but the mere idea of repeating it in Mark’s own house was so deplorable that he thinks he could actually face his mother before doing it. 

As Mark sits down and sees the pizza bagels, Sam says, unprompted, “Donghyuck chose our breakfast today. I just helped.” This garners a compliment from Jin, who had wolfed down three already, much to Sam’s dismay. 

“They’re my favorite,” Mark says, taking one and biting into it while simultaneously trying to grin at Donghyuck. His indecisiveness causes some pizza sauce to smear the side of his lips, and before Donghyuck could stop himself he snorts and grabs a napkin, comparing his messiness to that of a child’s. 

The rest of breakfast was spent reviewing the schedule for the wedding tomorrow, what time they had to be ready to drive down to the beachside. They’d be coming a bit later than Sam and Jin, who Matt will be picking up, so Mark would be driving himself and Donghyuck down to the beach. When asked what time they’d prefer, Donghyuck asked if there was time to see Lottie before she was dressed, or even after, if that was alright. The question clearly surprised Sam and Jin, making them pause, though Mark replied quickly that they could come a bit early since he also wanted to talk to Matt before the wedding. 

After Sam and Jin leaves, Mark tries to convince Donghyuck to let him do the dishes, as he’d been doing them since they arrived, but Donghyuck wanted to do them. Washing plates had a calming effect on Donghyuck, and he’d always felt like the warm water and the smell of soap cleared his mind. Taeyong hyung could probably relate. 

Mark asks if they could do it together, then, and Donghyuck feels a spike of fear that Mark had planned this all along so that they could finally talk about the argument. He’d much rather avoid mentioning it, pretending everything was fine especially in front of Mark’s family, but without Mark’s parents to buffer he was afraid of what would come out of Mark’s mouth. 

If it was an apology, Donghyuck would probably break down. Or punch him. Or both, since Donghyuck seemed to be good enough at either one to do it simultaneously. Anyway, he’d always been a great multi-tasker. 

However Mark doesn’t bring it up and instead rambles about his thoughts on the wedding and how excited he was to see Lottie and Matt in formal attire, though Matt was probably going to hiss complaints about it after the ceremony. Lottie would probably join in, too. 

Remembering the conversation he’d had with Sam, Donghyuck blurts out, “It’s not fair that they can’t have the wedding they want. I mean, it’s their wedding, for Christ's sake.” 

Mark stops, and Donghyuck feels bad for ruining the light-hearted atmosphere that Mark had created. Everyone always thought that Mark was endlessly optimistic since that was his persona, but like anyone else, Mark felt negative emotions, too. He just didn’t let those feelings get in the way of appreciating the good parts. 

“You’re right. It isn’t fair. This is far from the kind of wedding Matt--or my parents--imagined he’d have. But honestly, Matt hadn’t imagined someone like Lottie even giving him a second glance, so sometimes even when things don’t happen the way you expect, it’s not always bad. Sometimes it’s even better.” 

Mark puts down the plate he’d been drying, and looks at Donghyuck, steeling himself, as he adds, “And anyway, Lottie’s worth it. More than worth it, I’d say. Don’t you think?” 

Watching the soap suds sliding down his hand, Donghyuck wonders if Mark had gotten his way of saying things without really saying them from Sam. Matt was blunter, like Jin, but regardless of the words they choose, pretty much everyone in their family seemed to have the power to leave Donghyuck speechless and out of sorts. Another thing the whole family shares. 

“Yeah. She is.” 

When asked what he wanted to do today, Donghyuck says that maybe they could go out to a park a little later, before dinner, but stay inside until then. Tomorrow was going to be a long, tiring day for everyone, and they needed to save their energy. Mark agrees, and says that he’ll skype whoever’s available, if Donghyuck wanted to join him. Donghyuck says he’ll come by his room a little later, but he’d like to go and look at the garden for a bit. Recognizing his unspoken request for space, Mark agrees and heads up, telling Donghyuck that there was sunscreen on the table near the front door. 

Donghyuck goes to put some on but stops short when he sees that more pictures have been added to the frames that had greeted him when he first entered the house. Aside from the family pictures, there were now also additional photos of NCT at more recent fan meets and concerts. Then, at the very center of it all, was the picture they’d taken at the rink. Seeing Mark progress from child to adult, photos of childhood before they had met side by side with photos after, Donghyuck couldn’t help but feel how fast time moved, how easily it slips away unless they captured it in videos or photos. 

He’d been there, Donghyuck thinks. He’d been by him for most, almost all of it, witnessing Mark, clumsy, earnest, dorky Mark, grow into a full-fledged idol, a celebrity recognized and loved by thousands upon thousands of fans. He’d seen him through all the milestones, the first rap, the debut, the first win, the first award when Mark had cried in the privacy of their own room. Becoming a leader, as he instructed and monitored them and their performances. He’d seen him through the ugly moments, too, the smelly sweat after workouts, the injuries caused by dance performances and plain clumsiness, the questionable fashion choices, the embarrassing drunk episode when Mark hadn’t known his limits yet and he’d gone around telling everyone how much he appreciated them and thanked them for being born. Including their manager. He’d seen Mark turn stone silent during an argument with Johnny hyung, closing in on himself and going for a walk, the first time anyone had seen Mark come close to losing control. Of course, that was nothing compared to how Mark had raised his voice at Donghyuck during that fight, so angry his fists were shaking. Above all Donghyuck remembered Mark’s eyes, unfocused as if he’d been possessed, a Mark that Donghyuck didn’t recognize. 

Donghyuck was there from the very beginning, in the negatives of Mark’s life before they were processed and exposed to the light. 

Sam’s garden was beautifully done, the green grass spotted and surrounded by different flowers, all lined or circled by burgundy bricks. The flowers surrounding the garden were an array of different kinds, while the ones sprouting by the middle were usually of one kind. Donghyuck spots the yellow roses right away and gravitates towards them with little effort. 

Mark had given him yellow roses, on Valentine’s Day after that trip to Jeju. Donghyuck had been (secretly) thrilled, not used to such a romantic gesture, but upon hearing from Yeri noona what the yellow rose signifies, Donghyuck had gotten angry. Why did Mark give him roses for friendship on a day for lovers? He confronted Mark about it after trying and failing to reassure himself that Mark probably didn’t know about the meaning. When they talked about it, however, Mark said he knew what they stood for. Confusion quickly turning into irritation, Donghyuck had asked Mark up front if he was trying to break up with him in some convoluted but well-meaning way. Bewildered, Mark had replied that he’d chosen the flowers because their friendship was what Mark treasured the most. The romance was just another layer of love, added on top of it, but the foundation of everything they were had always lain in their friendship, not in their romance. 

Donghyuck had been stunned at Mark’s reasoning, and tried to cover up how touched he was by pointing out how embarrassing and sappy Mark could be. Then, he cooked him an elaborate dinner, all of Mark’s favorites, that had so many courses they had to call in the other hyungs to help them finish it. He also prepared a chocolate cake for White Day, even though Mark didn’t get him any chocolates. Mark, in an uncharacteristic display of possessiveness, refused to let Jisung or Chenle have any slices, finishing it slowly throughout the month--not that Donghyuck knew until Jeno told him about it. The next Valentine’s Day, Mark had given him yellow roses with red tips, which apparently meant Friendship and Love, Ten hyung had gleefully informed him as he took several pictures of the flowers from different angles. 

All in all they’d fallen into a relationship not that different from their friendship, aside from the non-platonic touching. Way back when, Donghyuck had been afraid that falling in love with his hyung would change something, make their relationship into like those relationships he saw on dramas, which were foreign and awkward. But by the time they finally got together, it had a been a long time coming, Donghyuck being in love with Mark for years that it had just become another fact of his life, like how he likes to sing and play football. He can’t pinpoint when exactly he realized that Mark felt the same, just that he was already more or less sure of it when they’d gone to Jeju. 

Jisung had once asked why Mark and Donghyuck still fought like children when they were already together, but Ten hyung had said that all couples banter between themselves. And it was true, Donghyuck was if anything more merciless (if that was possible) with his pranks on Mark, knowing that Mark would never retaliate too harshly. Just like that time all those years ago caught on video, when Donghyuck had gotten Chenle in on telling Mark that he learned a new (swear) word on TV and started using it in within hearing distance of the stylist noonas. Mark was about ready to throw Donghyuck into a room and lock him inside to make him think about what he did, but Donghyuck had stopped him in his tracks when he turned to him and said I love you, making Mark falter and call Donghyuck the devil. When they became official it became even more apparent that Mark would let anything slide when Donghyuck used the magic word, even taking the blame for him from the hyungs (not that they were fooled). 

Still, Donghyuck didn’t use it as much as he could have, since he didn’t want to risk using that sort of weakness too often. Mark himself wasn’t really into sweet nothings, random endearments mostly lost on him or met with sputtering. Nana had slapped Mark’s back once, asking how it was possible for Mark to be so bad at flirting with his own boyfriend, when two smitten teenagers could flirt better (or more disgustingly) than he could. The ribbing didn’t seem to get to Mark, though he did try to be more romantic in smaller gestures, like paying when they’d go out or insisting that he take Donghyuck to the venue of his schedules and then pick him up later when he was done. Gallant, Johnny hyung had called him. Donghyuck had to look it up in the dictionary that Mark had gotten Renjun, since his phone had been charging. 

The one serious fight that they’d get into had one topic: Donghyuck’s parents, or more specifically his mom. Mark believed that Donghyuck could communicate more with his parents, demand their attention or even an apology when they lashed out or said something insensitive. After their trip, Donghyuck’s communication with his parents had lessened, mostly on Donghyuck’s part. The reactions were divided, his mom worried and then angry at turns, while his dad seemed to always skirt at the edge of an apology over the words he’d said, explaining how he was trying to curb his drinking and that alcohol always made everything seem worse than it actually was. It exhausted Donghyuck, any phone call or letter making him moody. The thing is, even though Mark made sense and it did seem that Donghyuck needed to be an adult and properly talk things through, he begrudged his parents for being so emotional and childish, the same traits they sadly bequeathed their only child, who now had to deal with hating and trying to fix the parts of himself that reminded him of his parents. 

“I just want you to have some peace, god knows you deserve it,” Mark says, trying and failing to coax Donghyuck out of the sulky silence he’d spent the afternoon in after another difficult conversation with his mom. 

“If I raised my arm with a white flag one of them would shoot through it in cold blood, I promise you,” Donghyuck says, knowing he was being dramatic but feeling justified about it all the same. 

“You don’t have to make peace with them in one go, or even ever. But you have to do something to make peace with yourself, somehow. I hate seeing you hurting.” Mark, who always wanted what was best for Donghyuck, hated how Donghyuck was so affected by every word his mom or dad said, even when he’d already cut down on the communication. Sometimes, he’d wake up and see him by the dining table with a glass of water, eyes far away, and it was like he was back there in Jeju all over again, seeking refuge from a war-torn house. The home that Mark had tried to offer back in Jeju, here in Seoul, seemed to evaporate and fall into unimportance, just a beautiful dream that faded away after waking up to reality. 

Donghyuck didn’t have the heart to tell him that if he was going to gain peace, it wasn’t going to come from Mark. 

Still, Donghyuck had felt that his dad was sorry enough. Even though his words were imprinted in Donghyuck’s mind, like an unwelcome song that popped up at random, bothersome times, he thought that his dad did deserve another chance. More importantly, Mark said that Donghyuck deserved another chance to have a good dad, so Donghyuck and Mark went back to Jeju for a second time, because if Donghyuck went alone he’d probably chicken out and stay at a hotel for the whole stay. 

His mom had greeted them pleasantly, though not as exuberantly as the last visit. They all cooked together, and during dinner she announced that she’d found a stable job, working as a store clerk in town. Donghyuck had felt so proud of her, he vowed to surprise her with cake the day after. His dad had another long shift in the factory so he couldn’t make it, much to Donghyuck’s secret relief. 

The next day, after surprising his mom with cake, she brought out some champagne, which surprised Donghyuck because he’d thought that his dad didn’t store alcohol in the house anymore, something he’d said a few months ago. Maybe he was at that point of recovery where it was okay already, so Donghyuck had shrugged it off and smiled at Mark’s concerned glance to show that it was all fine. 

His dad came home late that night, and he apologized to Donghyuck and Mark sincerely. Donghyuck felt ecstatic, and when they had a good dinner all together with neither one of his parents looking the slightest bit put out, he could hardly believe it. Mark, who seemed to mirror Donghyuck’s emotions and smile, looked radiant. 

The temporary picture of a perfect family shattered fairly quickly when Donghyuck found some alcohol in his dad’s coat, which he’d taken to wash, and he thinks he would have honestly thrown it at his dad or the wall if Mark wasn’t there to calm him down. As it was, however, they had gone on a walk to help Donghyuck regain some semblance of sanity, though judging from the stormy expression he’d caught on Mark’s face a few times, the walk was a much-needed reprieve for them both. 

Donghyuck had honestly thought he’d calmed down by the time his dad came into the house, hours after, but seeing his face and imagining the sunken eyes and crooked posture resulting from something other than being tired from work seemed to snap him into a rage, and before he could think better of it, he told his dad that he and Mark were dating. 

Until now, Donghyuck still can’t honestly say what he was thinking. Did he want to blindside his dad like he had done to him? Did he want to take a stand for himself and shove it in his face that he was happy? Did he know that his dad would get mad or be disgusted, knowing his son was with another boy? Did he want him to feel that way as revenge for his alcohol addiction and lying? 

It was a mix of everything and quite a bit more that Donghyuck will never be able to fully articulate. All he knows is that for a few precious seconds after he had said it, he felt calm. Not the kind of calm he feels with Mark, a swell of contentedness and pleasure, but a wild, uninhibited calm, like he’d been set free. Like a bird who for the first time stretched its wings to see how far it could fly. 

It disappeared quickly in the face of his dad’s reaction, who at first seemed at a loss for what to say and then turned red so quickly he might as well have been dead drunk. He spat horrendous slurs at him, refusing to believe that his son could turn out to be gay, and that it was probably that crazy lifestyle in Seoul influencing his young mind, and he could still turn back if he stayed with them instead and quit all this idol nonsense. 

He must’ve stood there for an eternity, taking his dad’s merciless shooting, until Mark takes his arm and leads him away. He cups his face, and distantly Donghyuck can hear panting, but it isn’t until he focuses on Mark that he realizes that the breaths were his own. Mark looks at him with such sadness that Donghyuck can feel a lump in his throat, as if responding to Mark’s emotions. 

“Don’t cry,” Donghyuck says, though whether it’s directed to himself or Mark, he couldn’t be sure. 

“You were really brave,” Mark says, catching a lone tear that had fallen from Donghyuck’s eye with his thumb. He strokes him again when Donghyuck buries his head in his chest, muffling his sobs. 

He falls asleep in Mark’s arms, repeating his words like a prayer. 

They go home the next day, not even bothering to tell Donghyuck’s dad. They do tell his mom, who seemed to already know what happened, though Donghyuck hadn’t seen her there. Not that he’d been in any state to check his surroundings. 

Before they leave, Donghyuck’s mom catches Donghyuck alone and for one strange second, looking at his mother’s face, he thought that she was going to ask him to never come back. The thought comes detachedly, without any emotion accompanying it, and he’s glad for it, because if the emotion had been in any way good then it was proof that Donghyuck was a bad person. 

“I’m not going to...advise you on your relationships,” his mom says, in that way of hers when she does the exact opposite of what she says she’ll do, “but you must know that you aren’t good enough for him.” 

You aren’t good enough for him. 

Donghyuck would scream if he had thought for one second that she was listening. 

Donghyuck is both the same and different when they return. Their relationship is the same, maybe with a bit more coddling from Mark, who seemed to be constantly walking a tightrope between cheering him up and not pushing him too much when he was in a bad mood. His parents became a taboo topic, something that hovers over the air and Mark’s mouth but is never given voice to. Something in Donghyuck festers, first without him noticing because of how busy they are with work, but later had taken on a kind of malice that frightened him. He grew angry over Mark “babying” him, and the guilt every time he’d take a kind gesture the wrong way would only build his anger up even more. He started thinking things like why Mark was even with him when he was like this. 

Of course, he knew part of it was his parent’s words. He wasn’t totally unaware of his psyche. The fear of his mom’s words coming true and the idea that he would be exposed one day, his true, hateful self, and Mark would leave him, came about together and fed on each other to grow. Sometimes he felt like he was already living in that future, when Mark would look at him like he was a stranger, and Donghyuck imagined the love that animated Mark’s face slowly greying into impassiveness and exasperation. He saw double meanings in things Mark said and grew defensive regardless of whether he was being attacked or not. 

The hyungs had noticed it, as well. Ten hyung seemed the most willing to talk about it, taking time to ask Donghyuck how he was feeling and then go through the process of figuring out why and if they could do something to make him feel better. The others also tried, but no one really got to the root of it like Ten hyung did, couldn’t make Donghyuck take a jog or a shower if he didn’t want to. He also got Donghyuck to be more mindful of the things he did for Mark, little things that made it clear that Donghyuck loved him. He always made sure that Mark ate three full meals a day, more if they weren’t going to sleep much because of a schedule. He also left things that Mark needed in places that would be easy for him to see, in case Mark forgot or was in a rush. He bought anything Mark needed, supplies or toiletries, along with his own, sometimes before Mark knew that it had run out. All these things that were so automatic that Donghyuck hadn’t even thought of, but was doing. It came a long way in helping him feel better about himself.

And then the call came. 

“It’s your dad,” his mom says, voice quiet like it’s never been, “it was...it was a car accident.” 

“Was he drunk?” He knew better than to say such an awful thing to his mom, but it was so, so important to know. A matter of life and death. Donghyuck stopped breathing as he waited for the answer. 

“He was.” 

As he said his goodbyes and booked a flight home, he knew that out of all the words his mom had said to him, these two words, the breath exhaled from his mother’s lips, the ringing in his ears, even the low tone of the TV in the background, would haunt him the most. 

During the funeral, he and his mom were--perhaps for once, and only once-- united in grief. They worked efficiently and seamlessly, and his mom never said anything about Donghyuck’s suit or the food or any of the other things Donghyuck was tasked to do. It happens quickly, in a flurry of white chrysanthemums, and he thinks of Mark’s face as he comes up to his mom and says that he is sorry. 

“What for? He’s gone now, he’ll never hear it.” Whether his mom chose to purposely misunderstand his words or genuinely thought he was apologizing for being with Mark, he doesn’t know. He doesn’t care, either, because the apology was really for himself. 

He says he’ll call, but they both know a platitude when they hear one. They’ve heard plenty, after all. 

When Donghyuck comes back to Seoul, Mark holds his hand for as long as he is physically able to for about a week. When Donghyuck is doing something, he’ll ask permission, and then they’ll try to make a smoothie or chop onions using their other available hands, which lead to some pretty funny and innovative ideas and positions. Donghyuck appreciates that Mark is willing to take care of many matters for him, because he really just wasn’t in the right mindset to make any decisions. One morning the choice between a gray sweater and a blue cardigan makes him break down. Mark finds him on the floor, clutching both items and sobbing without tears. He helps him up and “models” the two articles for him, making funny poses against the bed and closet until Donghyuck calms down and chooses. 

Aside from throwing himself into work, he gets into documentaries. Sad documentaries, about the massacre in Jeju, the Korean war, North Korean defectors. He expands to the world and watches Nazi ones, the Lebensborn children, who were bred by Nazis to become the super race and then discriminated against and abused after the war. Sometimes Mark watches with him, but Mark cries a lot and Donghyuck feels obligated to stop and cheer him up. 

Ten hyung watches with him and tells him that it isn’t weird for him to suddenly be interested in these films. It’s cathartic. Also, if you don’t want to be sad for yourself, but can’t be happy, then why not be sad for others? Empathy isn’t a bad feeling to nurture. For a while, he tries to channel these emotions into his songwriting, something he’d been slowly working up to with the aid of the other members and SM’s own songwriters guiding him. But everything he wrote was awful, angry, cynical. The lines rang with disappointment and bitter lies. Just imagining the look on any of his hyungs’ faces upon reading any of them made him cringe, so he hides the notebook under the mattress of his bed and doesn’t mention song-writing to anyone, evading any follow-ups on his works in progress from Mark and the others. He has nothing to say that he’d be comfortable with anyone hearing, anyway. 

Once, he and Mark get into a fight about watching a rom-com. Mark says that a change of pace wouldn’t be so bad, something funny that Donghyuck can relate to, but Donghyuck doesn’t want to, can’t, relate to happy things. They were fake, anyway. What kind of love story is like that? Only showing the happy, good parts, the funny parts and the sweet parts? 

Mark gives in and they settle on watching a movie called Iron Jawed Angels from Jaehyun-hyung’s collection, about American women gaining the right to vote. It wasn’t happy, but it wasn’t exactly sad, either. It was uplifting, in a way. Afterwards, Mark asked him to consider watching movies like this, movies that were still realistic but also life-affirming. 

Donghyuck agrees, and Mark looks so happy that Donghyuck smothers his face with a pillow. 

Donghyuck gets into acting, and Mark holds his hand (figuratively, this time) through the process of starting his new dream. The auditions, the casting calls, the script reading, they were all so new and interesting and exciting that Donghyuck could barely shut up about it. Not that Mark was shutting him up, but sometimes he felt like the whole dinner was spent on his stories, his anecdotes. Mark pokes him and reminds him of when Donghyuck would barely put a word in throughout dinner, leaving Mark to talk about pretty much anything he could think of. It was a trade-off. All the emotions he’s felt, first-hand or second hand--all these feelings that didn’t have an outlet finally find a release in the form of acting. 

The excitement of starting anew, the euphoria of feeling again, gets to Donghyuck. He feels so young all of a sudden, like he was 16 and on the verge of debuting again. He also starts going on variety shows, and then agrees to be one of the MCs for Inkigayo. Soon, he’s busier than he’s ever been. 

He hadn’t really thought anything was happening until Mark one day told him he was overworking himself. He was barely eating, sleep broken and managed throughout the day in between schedules, and at one point it was going to blow up on him and severely damage his health, if it hadn’t already. Mark tries to get him to eat more, sleep more, but Donghyuck brushes it off and tells him he’s fine. He really was; emotionally he was more fine than he’d been in months, maybe even years. But emotion alone wasn’t going to drive him through his day, and finally, the other shoe drops and Donghyuck collapses. 

When Donghyuck wakes up, Mark is by his bedside, head resting against an open palm. He looks older than he actually was, and Donghyuck thinks that he did this to him. He made Mark look like this, made him worry and probably cry alone, except Donghyuck wasn’t there to comfort him this time around. He feels regret slice through him like a knife, and thinks of his mom’s face waiting for his dad turn up for dinner, and how love made people stay even when they should have left. 

He’s angry, mostly at himself, but with Mark around so often to help him, it spills and he lashes out at Mark, as well. He regrets it as soon as it happens but brushes off the regret like a pro. He’s got enough practice under his belt to do it easily. He feels bitter when Mark tries to help him, feeling stifled and crowded. Mark is always making decisions for him, but this time it is unwelcome and unnecessary. He doesn’t need Mark to come in and save his day like he did when he was younger. He definitely doesn’t need him hovering over his back and telling Donghyuck to come home early or to cancel this or that schedule because he’d be tired otherwise. 

All these emotions accumulate and it comes out in the form of a spectacular fight--one for the books, one to rival his parents’. 

“Why did you go to that radio show when your appearance was already canceled? Did you forget?” 

“No, I didn’t. I wanted to go. I told you I did, didn’t I?” 

“Yeah, but you already had two shootings, and those were non-negotiable, remember? Now you’ll only get how many hours of sleep until we go to Busan for a fan meet.” 

“It’s fine, isn’t it? I’ll still get a good five hours’ sleep, and I can sleep in the car on the way there, too.” 

“That’s not the point. You can’t just take on projects at your convenience. There was a formal agreement and--” 

“Can you stop talking down to me like I’m a kid? I know how schedules work, I’d been fixing my own with manager-hyung for years.” 

 

“Then why did you go to the appearance without telling me?” 

“I already told manager-hyung, do I have to report everything to you, as well? Are you my superior now too?”

“I--No, of course not. But I am your boyfriend, and you know that I worry. I’m sure you had time for even just a text, or a call--” 

“You’re sure, aren’t you? Of course you are, with how you’ve memorized my schedule you could recite it backwards. Can’t even do anything without you breathing down my neck.” 

“What are you trying to say? You know I only do these things because I worry, and I love you.” 

“My parents loved me too. Look where that lead.” 

“It’s not the same and you know it! How can you compare me to them? Or are you so stuck in that past that you can’t even have a conversation without bringing them up?” 

“Oh, I can do it easily. Hovering over me, making decisions for me, criticizing what I do--sounds familiar?” 

“I wouldn’t have to do any of that if you learned to take some responsibility and take care of yourself.” 

“Oh so it’s my fault? Poor Hyuckie, can’t even fucking tie his shoelaces properly, how is he going to survive without Mark by his side to hold his hand?” 

“Will you just--stop! Stop making everything into a joke, it’s so fucking hard to have a decent conversation with you, you’re such a child, how can anyone deal with you?” 

The words, along with the thunderous expression on Mark’s face, stirs something in Donghyuck that he hadn’t felt since he was 20, back in Jeju. He remembers the plate shattering, and his mom’s expression, and the fear--

It slams into him as Mark takes hold of his arm, and he’s shaking, whether due to anxiety or because he was trying to shake Mark’s hand off--he didn’t know. He shakes and shakes, so hard he’s surprised he doesn’t collapse to the floor, and suddenly Mark is wrapping his arms around him, trying to steady him. 

It was the wrong move. 

Donghyuck shoves him off with a cry, and when Mark grabs his hand as Donghyuck tries to leave, stopping him, there is a stinging pain in his knuckles and Mark is standing still, face turned sideways, a redness blossoming on his cheek. 

Donghyuck had punched him. 

He feels bile rising up his throat and he rushes to the sink and expels everything he’d eaten that day. He’s still heaving when he sees Taeyong hyung through his peripheral vision, looking anxious but not touching him. Taeyong hyung takes him to his and Jaehyun hyung’s room, brings him a toothbrush and a cup. He brushes his teeth on the bed--something he’d never imagine Taeyong hyung would have allowed--and once he finishes, Jaehyun hyung tucks him in and tells him to sleep. 

Right before he drops off, he murmurs to them to buy ice, because there was no more left in the freezer and Mark needed it. He forgets about it the next day. 

Since that fight, Mark had tried to apologize, but Donghyuck, who didn’t know how to handle the situation, waved him off or made light of it. He stopped fixing Donghyuck’s schedules, and didn’t insist that Donghyuck eat, only asking if he’d eaten when he came into the dorm and if not, if he wanted to eat with him. Donghyuck also tried, in his own obtuse way, by asking Mark his opinions about his schedules and sending photos of the food he eats outside of the dorm. They eat together. They sleep in the same room, though not in the same bed anymore. They compose raps, they read through scripts, they watch movies, they go out. The only real difference is that Mark didn’t touch Donghyuck the way he used to, and Donghyuck never initiated, even though there were a few close calls. Just when they came into close contact, however, Donghyuck would remember the punch, the redness of Mark’s cheek and his shocked eyes, and the guilt is enough to make him want to chain his hands to his sides, where they won’t do any harm. 

Donghyuck thinks that they broke up, because without the touching then really it was just a friendship. A great friendship, the very best, but still a friendship. Mark didn’t flirt or say anything remotely romantic, and Donghyuck didn’t either, which was a shame because throughout the years that tactic became half his arsenal of jokes to make Mark sputter or laugh, but he guesses it was time to get more inventive, anyway. 

And then--and then Mark asks him to come home with him, and now Donghyuck is in his house, his mom’s garden, looking at the flowers that his mom had grown. 

As he wanders around to look at the flowers, he wishes that Lottie and Matt’s relationship will be as successful as Sam and Jin’s. He wonders if Sam had volunteered to provide the bride’s bouquet and if Lottie’s mother had agreed. Probably not. It would have probably been a great good luck charm, though, and Donghyuck resolves to ask Sam about it tonight. If Lottie couldn’t have the flowers to her chest when she was being wed, then maybe they could have some in Lottie’s waiting room, something to look at when she got ready. Or by Matt’s chest. They pinned flowers on the guys too, didn’t they? 

He comes back up and knocks on Mark’s door to see if he was talking to anyone. When Mark calls Come in! A few other voices, familiar ones, chime with him, and Donghyuck is greeted with a small screen containing way too many faces. 

“Hyuckie!” 

“Donghyuck!’ 

“Hyuuuunnnnggg!” 

“MY SON!” 

“I thought I was your son--” 

“You’re all my sons! Except Johnny of course that would be f--” 

“Okay, maybe let’s not talk all at the same time, alright?” Mark asks, leading Donghyuck to his study table and putting the laptop down. 

“Someone finally decided to show their face,” Yuta hyung says, trying to squeeze into the screen by not so subtly shoving Doyoung hyung’s head against his own. Neither of them budges more than a few centimeters every few seconds. 

“Hyung, we met literally three days before Mark hyung and I left. It’s only been a week.” 

“Yeah, but you video-called Ten and Nana not even two days later! What do they have that I don’t?” 

“...Maturity and good conversational skills?” Beside Donghyuck, Mark quickly ducks his head from the screen to hide his snort, though the sound was loud enough to make Yuta hyung huff and Doyoung hyung snicker--before shoving Yuta hyung out of the screen completely. 

“So? How is everything? Mark’s parents sick of you yet?” Johnny hyung asks, an eager Ten hyung interrupting him by whining that he wanted to ask that question. 

“They love him--” “Surprisingly not--” 

Mark and Donghyuck pause to look at each other, before Donghyuck continues, “--though there’s still a few days left, so there’s time for them to change their minds.” 

“Have you already done something to piss them off, hyung?” Jisung asks, chin resting on Ten hyung’s shoulder. 

“Of course not--” “Nothing you wouldn’t expect--” 

Mark and Donghyuck look at each other again, this time with an irritated expression on Donghyuck’s face. Why is Mark always trying to defend him? At the look, Mark coughs before excusing himself to go to the bathroom, probably to give him some privacy with the other members. They all watch him leave, and when Donghyuck turns his head back to the screen he’s met with only Ten hyung, Jisung’s and Johnny hyung’s backs retreating the room--though Johnny hyung does throw him a look before closing the door. What that looks means, though, is anyone’s guess. Donghyuck’s been on the receiving end of them for years, and he’s never really deciphered the meaning of any of them. 

“Alright, come tell your Ten hyung what’s been going on,” Ten hyung says while clapping his hands once, face turning serious. 

“I blew up at Mark’s parents last night,” Donghyuck finally admitted, and it felt good to say it out aloud and hear the silence that comes after, no protests, no weak excuses. Ten hyung has always been good at making him feel validated, never quickly jumping in to stop Donghyuck’s line of thinking without listening to his reasoning first. 

“What happened?” 

“Well the dinner itself--you know, Mark hyung was doing his thing where he’d put food on my plate, and he wasn’t even asking me, and he got me water and--okay, I sound like such a douchebag, but it was so irritating? Like, I thought we weren’t doing that anymore? I mean fine yeah he can do stuff for me but Jesus christ, sometimes it’s so patronizing, you know?” Ten hyung nods, and Donghyuck takes it as his cue to continue, “Anyway, I got so annoyed I sorta snapped at him, right in front of his parents, and they were asking me what was wrong and I was just so--strung up? And I ruined dinner. That’s it.” 

“Did you talk to Mark about it already?”

“Yeah. Sort of. We fought about it on the way home--we weren’t with his parents anymore, thankfully. Mark didn’t even realize--I don’t know, hyung. Sometimes, I look at his face and think--am I going crazy? Is it all just in my head? I swear it feels like we’re talking but we’re having two totally different--contradicting--conversations. Doesn’t that sound crazy?” 

“Not at all. Look, when you’ve been friends with someone for so long like you and Mark, you start reading between the lines. That’s normal. Me and Johnny do it all the time. But that doesn’t mean we always get it right. Communication doesn’t always get easier the more you know a person, you know?” 

“Yeah, but is it supposed to get this difficult? Sometimes I think that the break up just permanently did something to us--and I can’t fix it, because I don’t know what it is.” 

“Donghyuck,” Ten hyung says, and Donghyuck tilts his head slightly to the screen to show that he’s listening, despite keeping his eyes on a random point on the wall, where it had first strayed to when Donghyuck recounted what had happened last night, “do you think that maybe you can’t figure it out because it’s something you can’t do alone?” 

“What do you mean?” 

“I mean--isn’t it about time you and Mark talked about it already?” 

“We can’t do that.” 

“Why not?” 

“You know why!” Donghyuck snaps, face screwing into a scowl. There was no way they could talk about it. Donghyuck was nowhere near ready to hear what Mark had to say. 

“I know,” Ten hyung says, “that you’re scared. That you think Mark will say something awful, and you won’t get to keep the friendship you’d managed to salvage after that fight. That you think Mark will say that he hasn’t forgiven you, and then you’ll have been right all along. That you’re not good enough for him. Even though God knows you’ve acted that way for years, anyway.” 

Hearing those words, hearing that specific phrase again said aloud after so many years of keeping it inside his mind, hidden and locked under mazes of pretense and outright denial, unravels Donghyuck. Like a treasure chest he’d buried at the very depths of his heart, he’d hoped that throwing away the key will let him forget the truth of its contents. But all that it’s done is anchor Donghyuck to the same place, to circle the same thoughts. Because Donghyuck has never once forgotten that inside that chest was nothing but the shards of shattered plates and empty beer cans. Nothing valuable. Nothing worth looking at, much less searching for. 

“I don’t need Mark to tell me that I’m not good enough for him,” Donghyuck whispers like a secret, the very secret that’s haunted him since the day he had hurt Mark, “I already know it.” 

“Donghyuck.” When he doesn’t continue, Donghyuck turns to look at him and flinches when he sees Ten hyung’s face so close, his eyes and nose taking up the whole screen, “Look at me.” 

“All of the members of NCT,” Ten hyung says, “everyone who’s ever lived in this dorm, ever practiced in our training room--every single one of them will say that you’re wrong. You can beat yourself up all you want, stick your head in the sand for as long as possible, but that fact won’t change.” 

“And if you just--if you just gave Mark once chance, just once, you’d hear it from his mouth, too.” 

“You don’t know that,” Donghyuck says, but it’s a token protest. Of course Mark would think otherwise. But that didn’t mean that Mark was right. No one knew better than himself, what kind of person he was. 

Ten hyung heaves a long breath, “Neither do you. That’s the problem, isn’t it? You don’t know, and you’re never going to know, because you can’t bear to think of what lies ahead. So you refuse to even consider moving forward, and Mark will just wait on you forever.” 

“Mark doesn’t have to wait if he doesn’t want to.” 

“Doesn’t he?” Ten hyung lies back on the couch with a thud, eyes boring into Donghyuck’s, “Are you seriously saying that it’s okay for Mark to be with someone else?” 

“He can date anyone he wants,” Donghyuck says, though the words ring hollow, with barely a ghost of conviction, “if it’ll make him happy--” 

“Why do you get to decide on what’ll make me happy?” 

At Ten hyung’s grimace, Donghyuck stands so quickly that the chair falls backwards, though he barely notices it as he looks at Mark standing by the entrance of the room, arms crossed, eyebrows wrinkled. A storm is passing, Donghyuck thinks spitefully. 

“Can’t even have a private conversation anymore? You have to monitor those, too?” 

“Donghyuck, I opened the door to let you know it was getting late and I overheard the last thing you said. That’s it. I don’t know what else you’ve talked about, though I can already imagine what lead to it.” 

“Oh yeah? Why don’t you tell me, then? Since you’re so great at knowing my thoughts even before I can say them, hell before I can even think them. Tell me what I’m thinking right now.” 

“Donghyuck, I’m not trying to--” 

“--No! Don’t talk to me like that. Not in that tone. I’m not a kid, I don’t need to be calmed down!” 

“Don’t you? Because it looks to me like you do need it. You’re shaking.”

“What, scared I’m going to punch you again?” 

At that question Mark stops his slow advance towards Donghyuck, arms falling to his sides, “What? No, of course not. You’d never hit me.” 

The shock and utter absurdity of Mark’s words pull a strangled laugh out of him, “Are you serious? I already did, remember? Or are you going to defend that, too?” 

Mark stares at him, face slack, “Donghyuck. You were--you were having a panic attack, and I crowded you. You hit me without realizing it, out of self-defense.” 

“What?” 

The shaking stops as Donghyuck’s body freezes, trying to comprehend what Mark just said. A panic attack? Self-defense? 

“You were shaking. Really hard, your legs looked ready to give out. I tried to help--well, it was stupid, I shouldn’t have crowded you--and you were trying to leave but I wouldn’t let you so I was obviously a threat. So you punched me.” 

Donghyuck’s head is shaking before he realizes it, “Mark, no. Don’t make excuses. I wasn’t--I mean, I was panicking, but I still--I hit you.” 

“Donghyuck,” Mark says, “do you remember consciously deciding to hit me?” 

“That doesn’t matter. I mean--what does it matter if I thought about it or not? I think about punching you all the time, you know.” 

“But you never do it.” 

“Well of course not,” Donghyuck snorts, “I still have some degree of self-control, you know--” 

“Donghyuck,” and Mark says his name like he was saying please, “you don’t have a violent temper. You know that, right?” 

The way Mark states it, as if it was so obvious that any person who’d know Donghyuck would know that, as if there was no way that Donghyuck couldn’t know that, is what makes Donghyuck’s retort die on his lips. He stares at Mark uncomprehendingly, as if he’d find understanding lying somewhere on the bridge of his nose or the purse of his lips. Instead, he finds Mark’s eyes looking back at him, something between amazement and horror lying beneath them. 

“Is that why you won’t touch me?” Mark says, “Is that what this has all been about? Because you thought you’d hurt me?” 

“It’s not just that,” Donghyuck says, because, well, at the beginning he was maybe a little scared of Mark’s touch. Just a little jump, when he remembered the tight grip on his arm that night. That went away fairly quickly, though. Mark would never touch him like that normally if he hadn’t provoked him. 

“Then what is it?” Mark says, stepping closer to Donghyuck. He waits at a respectable distance, obviously waiting for Donghyuck’s consent before moving closer. Donghyuck doesn’t know the answer that Mark is looking for, doesn’t know how to say yes to him, to let him come closer. None of this was in the script they’d been using, and with no sense of who he’s portraying, no cues to take, Donghyuck is at a loss. 

So when faced with such a situation, he does what he does best: he runs. Well, he doesn’t run, but he quickly walks out of Mark’s room, refusing to look him in the eyes as he passes him, and goes all the way to his room, his bed, where he collapses. Even a retreat can feel like a battle. He stands up again to lock the door, even though he knows Mark won’t come until later, to let Donghyuck think. To let himself think, since Mark was always considering, always reflecting. He’s used up more than 10 journals with his thoughts since they were trainees. 

Taking a page out of Mark’s book, Donghyuck tries to reflect as well, though he’s never really liked to think hard about complicated things. However, his mind obliges him, going back to what was perhaps the most important part of the whole conversation: Mark said that Donghyuck had hit him because of a panic attack. A panic attack? He knows what they were, of course, but do people get violent because of it? 

He opens his laptop and types "violence during panic attacks", seeing results that ranged from medical papers and websites to other people also reaching out to explain their experiences and ask for help. One person said that she had kicked and hit her sister without realizing it, because during an attack she felt like everyone was an enemy, even the ones she loved who were just trying to calm her down. Right below her question was a rather long answer that mentions Panic Disorder and losing control and learning accountability in order to recover and not put yourself or your loved ones at risk. Donghyuck reads through the answer again and again, hands clammy as he scrolls down. After the answer was a follow-up response from the person, saying that she could trace it back to her childhood where her parents denied her the right to express her feelings. If feelings like fear or desperation couldn’t be let out properly, it may come out in the form of physical aggression. Anger is a reactionary feeling, and is often accompanied by or caused by hurt, or feeling insignificant or unimportant. 

Donghyuck continues reading, soaking in all the responses, the information, the genuine support from strangers to other strangers who were experiencing the same thing, and tries to look at his own experiences in light of theirs. His parents, who due to the constant issue of money, made Donghyuck feel insecure and uncared for as they became hostile towards each other. His dad, who turned to the bottle but had promised Donghyuck he’d stop, and then didn’t, because Donghyuck wasn’t even worth that. His mom, who had loved him in such a messed up, broken way, her changing personality keeping Donghyuck on edge and afraid of when the tides would turn. And then his experiences in Seoul, as a trainee and an idol, feeling insecure about his body and his skills, the judgment and blatant disrespect from some people who conveniently forgot that Donghyuck was human just because he was in the spotlight. And of course the constant monitoring, the image-regulation of being an idol, for the sake of SM and NCT, whose members he’d do anything for. 

He scrolls back to the first response. 

It’s time to get honest with yourself. 

A short rap on the door brings Donghyuck out of his thoughts, and when he comes out Mark is there waiting, an arm scratching the back of his neck, the picture of awkwardness. 

“Hey. Um, it’s pretty late already, but do you wanna go for a walk? Before my parents come home?” 

For the first time in a long time, Donghyuck doesn’t second guess himself or hesitate. He nods. 

They don’t go very far, since Mark’s parents would come home soon. The cul de sac that Mark’s house is in is alive with hollers and screams of children, and Donghyuck is amazed by how easy it is to see into many of the houses’ backyards, that when the children or parents look up they smile and wave, recognizing Mark, and were just as warm when greeting Donghyuck. They wave back, though sometimes Mark does this tiny aborted bow that makes Donghyuck chuckle. Shouldn’t he be the one getting confused about the customs? 

They stop by a park and Donghyuck immediately goes to the cotton candy vendor who had on display beautiful recreations of Pokemon heads all made of cotton candy. He wants a Pikachu and gets Mark a Squirtle without asking him. Squirtle suits Mark’s face the best. Well, aside from Psyduck, but those weren’t available, so Squirtle would have to do. 

“You--you’re Asian?” The vendor asks as he stirs the stick in a circular motion. He has stringy gray hair, probably older than 50, and a gap in his front teeth. His smile reminded Donghyuck of a child’s. 

“I’m Korean, yes,” Donghyuck says, and the man’s grin gets impossibly wider. 

“Korea. Beautiful country. Not too far from my old home.” 

“Where are you from?” 

“Syria. Do you know?” 

Oh. Donghyuck clears his throat, “That’s a long way from here.” 

“Yes. No. It is here,” he points to his heart, “always here.” 

“Your home,” the man continues, “is divided? By war?” 

The taboo topic makes Donghyuck falter. The man is talking about the divide between North and South. The genuine feelings that shine in his eyes are overwhelming. He wonders how he could survive a war-torn home and still be so kind. 

“No...well, it’s complicated. We’re--divided. By a lot of things.” There was so much history to go through to even begin to understand it. 

“Apart is not good.” he says, “Reason is not so important, only unity. Always better to be together than apart.” He points to his heart again, then to Donghyuck’s, one slim, slightly trembling finger. 

“For peace.” 

Then he hands the cotton candy, Mark coming closer to get his. Mark thanks him and compliments him on his English, and the man beams and waves goodbye. Donghyuck walks backwards, waving both his arms high until the man is out of sight, and they sit on a bench. 

“That man,” Donghyuck starts, but trails off, not knowing what to say. 

“His name is Tarek. Lottie buys from him once a week, sometimes more. He used to work in construction but his legs can’t walk much anymore so he’s been selling cotton candy in that spot for a few years now. His wife sings in our church, you know.” Mark rambles on, talking about Tarek’s children and the soccer game the youngest participated in last week, and how Jin had taken him with a few other children home in their carpool service. Donghyuck is grateful for the rambling, because it means that Mark is just as nervous as Donghyuck. He listens and chews on the cotton candy, focusing on the sweetness against his tongue, the stickiness of his hands. His fingers fumble, rubbing to get the stickiness out. The sweat was probably helping more, though. 

“Mark,” he says, and Mark closes his mouth with an audible clack of his teeth. He looks at Donghyuck, who is staring at his half-eaten candy, “I’m sorry for walking out earlier.” 

“It’s alright. You needed time to process things, right? I did, too. We both needed it.” 

“I googled panic attacks,” Donghyuck blurts out after a moment’s pause, not really knowing where he was going, “and it said some stuff about violence. And family. Well--not really family, exactly, but like--you can trace it back to childhood apparently, and sometimes it has to do with your family, so.” 

Mark nods, looking ready to say something, but then stops and lets out a breath, letting Donghyuck gather his thoughts and continue. 

“I don’t really know…I mean, I’ve never had a label for it before. It feels like--something’s changed, but at the same time not really? I’m still--I’m still the same.” Donghyuck knows he isn’t making much sense, and he wants to give up trying to explain it but Mark is nodding, eyes understanding, and it spurs him on. Mark is listening to him. Mark doesn’t care if what he’s saying doesn’t make sense. 

“I just--I’m sorry,” Donghyuck says, and the sorry is caught in a barely aborted sob, something heavy in his gut. It’s so tiring, trying to think about all this. Trying to make sense of it, and explain it to Mark. 

“I want to apologize, too,” Mark says, cautious, pained, “I keep thinking. Why didn’t we talk about this sooner? Why did I wait and let you go on and think all these things without trying to explain? And honestly--honestly, I was scared. I thought that I hurt you. I thought you didn’t forgive me. So I never pressed, because god knows I’ve forced you so many times already. I wanted to wait, and I told myself I was being kind, giving you time, space, whatever you need. But I just left you alone.” 

“That’s not true,” Donghyuck says, “you never--you never took away our friendship. We were still with each other. I’ve never once thought I couldn’t count on you.” 

“We were with each other. But we weren’t--” Mark looks away, shutting his eyes briefly, then looks back, “we weren’t together. Can you imagine how awful it is to miss you when you’re right in front of me?” 

“You missed me?” Donghyuck asks, not because he didn’t understand, but because the force of emotion behind Mark’s words was stronger than he could take, and confronted with it, he feels helpless. 

“I miss you,” Mark says, “every goddamn day. I miss the way you used to smile at me. I miss the quips you made to make me blush. I miss your smell on my pillow, your hair against my chin when I wake up. I miss everything.” At the end of it Mark looks wrung out, as tired as he’d look after a concert, or a hard day of practice, and his eyes--they were alive with emotion, shining with the knowledge that he’s given it everything he’s got. 

Donghyuck thinks that he should match Mark’s honesty, return his confession a hundredfold, because Mark doesn’t deserve anything less, but. 

“I miss those things too,” Donghyuck says, “but there’s so much--there’s so much I don’t miss. I don’t miss the anger I feel when you do things for me. I don’t miss the bitterness, the constant fear and doubt. The pressure--I felt like the walls were closing in, sometimes, when you smiled at me. The questions pounding in my head.” 

“I can admit,” Mark says, “that I did wrong. Somewhere along the way, taking care of you, it became another responsibility to bear. I stopped listening to you and told myself I knew best. I cut you off, talked over you, made you feel all the things your parents made you feel. And--I’ll never forgive myself, making you feel like you were less than what you were.” 

“I don’t want you blaming yourself--I’m the one who takes everything the wrong way. Don’t put it all on you.” The last thing Donghyuck needs is for Mark to be burdened with his mistakes. 

“If you can blame yourself, then why can’t I? I don’t think you understand--” he cuts himself off, wincing at how condescending the words came out, “I’m sorry. What I mean is. I make you feel less, don’t I? I make you doubt yourself. Like you’re weak, unable to stand up for yourself. By yourself. Am I right?” 

Donghyuck thinks back to all the times Mark outshone him. On stage with the fans, off stage with the hyungs or the teachers. It wasn’t an issue, he’s never begrudged Mark his talent. He loved Mark too much to really care. But later, with his parents in Jeju. When he comforted him, and Donghyuck likened Mark to a hero. When Mark took care of him when he was grieving. Somewhere along the way it became a pattern, Mark saving and Donghyuck being saved. 

The thing is--the thing is, when there’s a hero, there’s a victim. Or if there wasn’t a victim, there was a bad guy. Donghyuck didn’t want to be a victim anymore, but he didn’t think he could be a hero, either, so there was no other role to fill than the bad guy. The bad guy was cowardly. He was angry, bitter. Violent. He had a past that he couldn’t leave alone, and turned crooked because of it. Sometimes, it all came down to the roles people agree to play. 

“Maybe you might have,” Donghyuck says, “just a little.” It really wasn’t Mark’s fault, that it played out the way it did. One of the directors he’d worked with before told him that in stories, characters negotiate their agency with every other element present. Your character, he had told Donghyuck, is both freed and confined by your humanity. 

Maybe it wasn’t totally Donghyuck’s fault, either. 

“I’d been trying to think,” Mark says, “of how we can keep going. Of how we can forgive and move forward. But the thing is--you won’t forgive yourself for hurting me. I can’t forgive myself for hurting you, either. I thought that meant it was the end. But--hear me out--is it really so bad? Doesn’t it just show that we love each other? Isn’t it proof that we don’t want to hurt each other again?” 

“You’ve never said that before. Not out loud,” Mark looks at him, confused, and Donghyuck feels a slight flush creeping up his face, “that you love me, I mean.” 

“Oh,” Mark blinks, “really? Never?” 

“Well, not exactly,” Donghyuck says, because of course Mark’s made it clear that he loves him in pretty much every other way, but an outright confession--it seemed out of reach, for the emotionally awkward Mark. Donghyuck hadn’t cared, since it wasn’t like he had ever confessed outside the safety net of jokes, trying to get out of trouble, and easy flirting, either. They were never really about that. 

“Well,” Mark says, “I love you.” 

Donghyuck lets out a gust of laughter, but really it could have easily been a sob. He’s glad it isn’t. If anyone found out he cried after hearing Mark confess, he’d quit SM just to avoid facing the Dream kids out of shame. They’d still find out anyway, knowing Taeyong hyung. He was such a sucker for chic lit confessions, and this one was for the books, for sure. 

“Aren’t you going to say it back?” 

“How are you like this?” Donghyuck asks, ignoring Mark’s elbow nudging at him, “always so brave. My hero.” 

“No,” Mark says, shaking his head, “no more heroes. Okay? Me and you--we’re just people. If we happen to save each other sometimes, it’s no more or less extraordinary than anyone else in a relationship.” 

“A relationship?” Donghyuck repeats, “Mark. I’m not sure--I don’t know yet.” 

Mark straightens from his lax posture, face turning abruptly serious, “What do you mean?” 

“I mean--it’s too quick. We have so much to talk about, and I still want to read up on...well, everything. I need to figure myself out. I mean, I punched you. Whatever I was going through--it’s not forgivable.” 

“You’re not--” Mark pauses, “okay. I respect that. But we really can’t be together while you do it? I mean, we can read up on stuff together. I have books. Johnny hyung has books. Ten hyung sort of has books, though they’re more on the philosophical side than the psychological. We can go through it together.” 

Donghyuck wants to say yes. He does, because what Mark is saying makes sense, and he wants to give in so badly. But is it because he always says yes to Mark? What if he says yes and then blames him again for forcing him to do something he wasn’t ready for? He can’t let that pattern repeat again, not when they’re planning to start anew. Does Donghyuck have enough faith in himself that he wouldn’t tread that same path again and ruin it all? 

He still doesn’t know. 

“I don’t know,” Donghyuck says, “if I can make you happy.” 

“You already do that. Why is it so difficult for you to believe that you make me happy?” 

He thinks back to Mark’s face when he had woken up after his collapse. To Mark’s eyes when they had that fight. To Mark’s sighs when Donghyuck had ignored him to stew on his anger alone, staring at the TV with the phone in a crushing grip. Sure, he made Mark laugh sometimes, and knew how to cheer him up when needed, but was it enough? Was it worth the pain? He could make Mark happy as his best friend. He didn’t need to be his boyfriend to do that. If Donghyuck were his boyfriend, he’d be too entangled in Mark that he could end up spiraling back into comparisons, too close to him to think clearly. He could end up playing victim again, or bad guy, when what he really needs to focus on is playing himself. 

“How are you so sure I can?” Donghyuck finally counters, and Mark stares at him, unsure of how to take his words. Of course Mark knows better than anyone what Donghyuck does to him, for him. Why couldn’t Donghyuck just take his words at face value and believe him? 

“If you’re still trying to keep score of how we’ve hurt each other,” Mark says, “then fine. We’ll do that. I hurt you. I riled you up enough to trigger a panic attack, and then I scared you into turning violent. I made you feel incompetent, like you couldn’t handle yourself, tried to control you like your mom did. You think that’s more excusable than what you did to me? Because you’re what, used to it? Newsflash, Hyuck, you can’t hurt people just because you know they can take it. I’m not excusing you, or absolving you. I’m forgiving you. That’s my choice, isn’t it? If it’s about that punch--stop equating our whole relationship to that single act. I know you. I trust you.” Mark looks at him, waiting for an answer. 

That’s the problem, Donghyuck thinks. Mark trusts him. Mark loves him. Mark would forgive him even if he didn’t deserve it, because of who he was, and because of that love. Love made you do dumb things, forgive what would otherwise be unforgivable and make you stay even when you shouldn’t. 

Donghyuck can’t trust that love, nor the forgiveness that came with it. 

“I’m sorry.” 

The trees surrounding them turn dark as the sun’s light recedes, and Donghyuck may or may not imagine the light dimming in Mark’s eyes. It was probably just a reflection. 

He stares at the stick in his hands, then stands up. Those calloused hands. He wishes he had even an ounce of the strength those hands had, wishes they were somehow passed onto the stick he carries as they begin their walk home. But if courage was passed so easily from person to person, it would be all too easy, and without a hard-earned victory, the story would lose what made it human. 

Donghyuck could only be human, confined by all his fears and evasions. 

When they arrive home, Sam was already cooking dinner. Jin takes Mark up to his room to show off his suit, and Donghyuck helps Sam because that’s what he does now. 

“How was your day?” Sam asks. “Did you do anything special?” 

“We went for a walk, and I met Tarek? The vendor in the park?” 

“That’s lovely, I’m glad you got to meet before you left. He’s a wonderful man, isn’t he?” 

“Yeah. He was really sweet,” Donghyuck pauses, watching the soup simmer, “I also went out to the garden, to see the flowers. They’re beautiful.” 

“Thank you, I’m so glad you like them. Are there any in particular that you like? Maybe I can put it in a pot--or, well, dry it out for you? Whichever you think is best.” 

“It’s fine, please don’t bother. I really liked the yellow roses, though.” 

“Yeah? You saw the peace roses?” 

“The what?” 

“Oh, um, never mind. Mark likes those roses best, too. He used to ask about how they were growing when I started planting them. In fact--he was the one who suggested I start planting them.” 

Donghyuck isn’t surprised. Out of everything, Mark always cared the most about the things he considered his responsibility. 

“I was thinking,” Donghyuck says, hoping he isn’t stepping out of line, “that Lottie could use those flowers for her bouquet. Or Matt, for his suit. Unless they’re already using it, of course.” 

“You know,” Sam says, turning to Donghyuck, “I’d thought the exact same thing. But the caterer’s already providing it. It can’t be helped, really.” 

I figured, he doesn’t say. Instead, “That’s a shame. Lottie would have loved them for sure.” 

Sam hums in appreciation, and Donghyuck thinks that progress is difficult for everyone. Family grounds you, but by that very virtue, it keeps you stuck in a crappy situation. 

Dinner is filled with anecdotes from Sam’s and Jin’s day, Donghyuck listening attentively and laughing at the image of Matt hitting his hip on one of the flower stands because he hadn’t been looking where he was going. Mark is smiling, as well, but it’s a vacant smile, distant, and Donghyuck wonders if he has ruined Matt’s wedding for Mark. But he knows that Mark could compartmentalize well, and he hopes that can get him through tomorrow, and that he’ll concentrate on celebrating. Mark--the whole family--deserves it. 

Mark excuses himself right after dinner, saying that he was tired and needed to rest before the big day tomorrow. Donghyuck wants to follow him, but he’d have no idea what to say, and he also wants to respect Mark’s space. So he excuses himself as well, giving the same excuse, and tries to sleep despite the fact that it was barely 8 pm. He manages it, but wakes up at around 1 am, and heads down for a glass of water. Maybe he could kill time by reading up some more on anxiety. 

When he reaches the kitchen, however, the light is open, and so is the light for the garden. He sees through the window two figures. It’s Sam--and Lottie? 

Another scene comes back to him and he is transported back to Jeju, eavesdropping on Mark and his dad. The eerie feeling of the kitchen light, the back turned towards him--he puts his glass down, tries to leave but catches Lottie’s eyes before he could. 

Lottie’s eyes widen in surprise, but a smile breaks through her face and she waves, making Sam turn back to see who she was waving to. Sam smiles as well, and gestures for Donghyuck to come out. 

“Welcome,” Lottie says, gesturing to the garden, “to the land of insomniacs. Well, insomniac, since it’s really just me, mom’s here for moral support.” 

“Um,” Donghyuck says, at a loss for words, “your wedding...is tomorrow.” 

Sam nods seriously, giving Lottie a look, as if she wasn’t aware of the fact already, or needed reminding. Lottie laughs without humor. 

“I’m having my mandatory pre-wedding breakdown,” Lottie says, “I’m entitled to that, right?” 

“I think most brides break down a bit closer to home, love,” Sam says, “unless they’re running away.” 

“This is home,” Lottie says, “plus I wanted to be around your flowers. If I wasn’t going to be married surrounded by them then I should at least get them as an ironic background for my breakdown, don’t you think?” 

“It does make a great scene setting,” Donghyuck says, though he supposes he isn’t helping. Lottie’s pleased smile confirms it. 

“I’ve always had a great sense for drama,” Lottie says, “I get it from my mom, I’m sure.” 

They all pause at that, and Lottie’s face changes swiftly, crumpling like autumn leaves. Sam’s face is solemn, and Donghyuck thinks maybe he should give them some privacy, except Lottie is looking right at him, and Donghyuck is compelled to speak. 

“You’re nothing like her,” Donghyuck says. Technically it doesn’t really mean anything, especially since he didn’t even know Lottie’s mom, not really, but he thinks that it’s a nice thing to hear. He wouldn’t have minded hearing it at some point, at least. 

Lottie heaves a breathless laugh, “If only.” 

“Sweetheart,” Sam says, coming closer to Lottie, “I would never let my son marry someone like your mother. Trust me.” 

The harshness of her words brings a smile to Lottie’s and Donghyuck’s faces. The calm certainty and resolution of her tone reminded Donghyuck of Mark taking charge. It was soothing. 

“I’m so sorry for all the trouble,” Lottie says, then looks at Donghyuck, “for you too, getting into all this drama.” 

“I’m pretty used to it, actually,” Donghyuck says, though whether he’s referring to his own family issues or acting, he wasn’t sure. He finds he doesn’t really care, however way they interpret it. 

“Do you want to head back up? Or would you mind sitting with me for a while?” Lottie asks, and there’s something about her expression, an urgency, that makes Donghyuck pause. He wonders if Lottie had something to say to him. 

“I wasn’t going to sleep, anyway,” Donghyuck says, and Lottie beams at him.

Sam looks torn, but then says, “Alright, but please try to get some sleep. Lottie, wake me up when you’re ready to go home, I’ll be in the living room. I won’t have you driving back alone.” 

Lottie nods, “I’m sorry again for being so troublesome. Please get some rest, too.” 

Sam leaves and Lottie plops down on the grass, patting the space next to her in invitation. He sits down, and Lottie pulls him in for a hug. Donghyuck is so surprised by the force of it that they both fall onto the grass, Donghyuck narrowly avoiding falling on top of her. 

“You’re not hurt, are you? Tomorrow we’ll be siblings,” Lottie says, “so I plan to treat you like I treat Mark. Mostly that just means a lot of affection, though Matt says I don’t know my own strength, so just shout or something if I hurt you by accident.” 

Donghyuck stares at the evening sky and tries to decide which part of Lottie’s statement he wants to address first. The sibling part seemed most important, because he didn’t know if Lottie meant Donghyuck as her, well, brother, or brother-in-law, and he figures he should make it clear at some point, though he wonders if it might be better to let Mark break the news. But the idea that he’d have to go through the wedding tomorrow with all of them thinking that he was in some way Mark’s boyfriend was too much. 

“Mark and I,” Donghyuck begins, “we’re not together.” 

“Like right now?” 

“No. Maybe. Maybe--not ever,” Donghyuck says, and hearing it out loud, like so many of his other feelings, makes the heavy feeling return, and there are tears in his eyes. They don’t fall, since he’s lying down, and he thinks it’s a good tactic, looking up at the sky to stop his tears from falling. 

“Oh,” Lottie says, “can I ask why? Or is it too much?” 

“Well,” Donghyuck says, wondering how he could explain it all, “I’m just. I hurt him, so.” I’m not good for him, he doesn’t say. Not good enough, that is. 

“Oh yeah? Did you cheat?” 

“What? No! I’d--I couldn’t…” 

“I didn’t think so. So what was it?” 

“I…” Donghyuck brings his hands to his face, pressing his wrists hard on his closed eyelids, “I punched him.” 

He hears rustling, and is sure that if he opens his eyes Lottie will be looking at him, sitting up, probably. 

“You did what? Why?” 

“It was...during a fight. I lost control. I--had a panic attack? And it just--I didn’t even realize, until after.” 

“That’s…” Lottie lets out a noisy exhale, “that’s fucking awful.” 

Feeling his shoulders slump, chest caving in, Donghyuck presses his palms harder, “you’re right. It is awful. I can’t believe…” 

“So what did you do about it?” 

“What do you mean?” 

“I mean, you know, what did you do after? Did you read up on it? Take classes? Therapy?” 

“I...no. I kinda just--ignored it.” Because I’m a coward, and all. 

“Oh. I can see why you can’t be together then. I mean, if you’re not going to figure out how to fix it, then what’s gonna stop it from happening again?” 

Donghyuck nods. Those were his very thoughts, said out loud. It felt good to have someone say it in that matter of fact tone, like what he was thinking was rational. Like it wasn’t something that should be brushed under a rug. Not that Mark ever said that, but it sort of felt that way, anyway. 

“Of course, regardless of whether or not you’re together, you should still do something about it. For yourself, you know?” 

“I think--you’re right. I mean--you know what you’re saying, don’t you?” 

“Oh yeah,” Lottie says, lying back down on the grass with a thud, “I told you before, didn’t I? Anger management. Did them in high school, so I was in a good place when Matt and I met. Not that it was all smooth sailing, but it helped a lot.” 

“Do you think...I mean, should I take those?” 

“I don’t really know enough about your condition, but if the violence is caused by panic attacks I’d say a therapy consultation won’t hurt. But I mean if you really feel out of control and afraid that you’ll do something, then you could try going once, just to see.” 

“It sounds intimidating,” Donghyuck admits. 

“It is intimidating,” Lottie says, “any kind of class where you’re gonna lay out your issues and talk about them with strangers is gonna be. But it helps, getting it out there and having other people talk, too. Because they get it, you know? They get that it’s an issue. Physical aggression is never a good thing.” 

“Never?” 

“I know it sounds like a blanket statement--what about self-defense? Provocation? History of domestic violence? Those are all factors, too. But you don’t start with the exceptions, you start with rules. Rules that you can follow and live by.” 

Rules. They sounded appealing to Donghyuck, who’d been at the mercy of his confusing emotions for so long. But. 

“What if you break them?” What if you’re just not a good person? Donghyuck wants to add, but thinks it’s too much. 

“Then you break them, and you deal with the consequences as they come. But those rules--they’re not made for the exceptions. They’re made for everyday life, for any general situation. A plan of sorts. And you know what’s going to be amazing, when you have these rules?” 

Donghyuck looks at Lottie, who is looking back at him with a strangely triumphant smile on her face, a glint of pride in her eyes. 

“You’re going to be able to tell the number of times you could’ve, but didn’t break them. And that’s going to mean something. Not to anyone else, ‘cause nothing happened for them to notice, but to you. Because you’ll know.” 

Donghyuck tries to process all that she said, give it the proper attention it deserves. And it deserved a lot; Donghyuck had never thought about things in this way before. Mark tells him that he’s fine as he is, and Donghyuck loves that, loves Mark and his kindness, his unquestioning acceptance. But sometimes what he needs is someone to look at him, to listen when he says he’s not fine, and to tell him that he could be better. With some effort, with some guidance. 

With some faith. 

“You could become a therapist.” 

“What, and waste my engineering degree? Anyway, I’m in no position to give proper advice.” Lottie says, snorting, “I’m the one who needs a shrink, really. Mommy issues this high,” she reaches up, as high as her arm can stretch. And then points to the sky. 

“I think you give good advice.” 

“Nah. People like us, you know, we say stuff we wanna hear. If it helps others, then that’s great, but we’re the worst at following our own words. The wonder of hypocrisy.” She pauses, gaze eerily focused on a point in the night sky, before continuing, “you know what I really need right now?” 

“What?” 

“It rhymes with shrink.” 

“...No.” 

Lottie huffs, “Thought so. No alcohol, no food--I’m on a diet, you know--what a shit week. Aside from the skating rink. I’ve been miserable since wedding preparations started--it’s a miracle Matt still wants to marry me, really.” 

“Matt wouldn’t leave you. You guys suit each other too well.” 

“You think so? We’re hardly fated. And we didn’t spend most of our lives together, you know,” a slight nudge on his elbow drives the not so subtle hint home, and Donghyuck would be annoyed if Lottie didn’t seem so playful about it. 

Donghyuck thinks back to the pictures, to the years and years of memories, from the roots of their starry-eyed, glass-willed youth to the full bloom of all that they’d ever worked for. He is lucky, to have such a narrative lived out; a realized dream, a group of friends to rely on, a best friend to share it all with. He’d once said that he and Mark had a fantasy-like relationship. Of course, it was mostly a joke, but in many ways, he also sincerely believed that he and Mark fit each other in the way iconic duos did; Sherlock and Watson, Batman and Robin, Tom and Jerry. They were opposites, complements. Foils. Donghyuck was quick wit and playful laughter, Mark was thorough details and focused determination. Donghyuck can startle Mark into loosening up with a snappy, funny remark, Mark can ground Donghyuck with a well-placed hand on his back or his knee. It was these strengths that convinced Donghyuck that he and Mark suited each other, made him thankful that he auditioned for SM, debuted with NCT. Made him think that there was really no other rightful place for him to be, but beside Mark. Made him resolve, when he saw Mark cry for the first time in their room after their first win, that he’d stand by Mark, his optimistic, too trustful hyung who put so much pressure on himself that he could barely stand to break down in front of anyone else. 

Mark, who’d been holding his tears back when he asked Donghyuck to give them another chance, and Donghyuck had apologized, but not because he didn’t want to be with Mark. He had apologized because he did want to be with him. He wants to see his face flush after a flirty joke or link pinkies right before a performance. He wants to kiss him after Mark shows him a new rap, all eager, shy eyes, wants to lay his head on the hollow of his shoulder and let the slow, drawn breaths wash the day’s concerns and anxieties away. 

He wants to love Mark the way he did before; easily, unabashedly. Wants to be loved by Mark and be comforted by it, secure in the belief that it’s enough. That he is enough, no matter what his mom or anyone else in the world might think. That he is strong enough to take Mark’s love and not twist it into something ugly or hurtful, something that would ruin them both. 

And he wants to be brave enough to tell him, to say out loud just once, without the protection of jokes or half-meant teasing, that he loves him. But he wasn’t, and he was sorry, for ever letting Mark believe anything different. 

“Here,” Lottie says, holding her hand out towards him. 

Donghyuck pushes himself up slowly, confused, “What?” 

“Take my hand.” 

“What...for?” 

“Just take it.” He takes it. 

“Now, I want you to think about whatever it is you’ve got trapped in that head of yours, and I want you to let all that frustration build, and then squeeze my hand as hard as you can.” 

He pulls his hand away, but Lottie grabs it back, gentle but firm. 

“What if it hurts?” 

“Then I’ll tell you, and you’ll stop.” 

“Are you sure?” What if he pressed too hard, too fast for Lottie to react? 

“Trust me. I’ve done this a bunch of times with Matt. Though I honestly prefer screaming at a top of a hill, we don’t really have that option now. Go on.” 

Donghyuck stares at their hands, his hands which were quite a bit bigger than Lottie’s, whose hands were already quite small for her height. This didn’t seem like a very good or smart idea, but he trusts Lottie. 

“What should I think about?” 

“Whatever you were thinking about before. You looked pretty shaken up, there.” 

Donghyuck frowns, wondering why he has to continue ruminating about Mark. He doesn’t like the bitterness, the anger. Even though that’s all it ever seems to come to, he always wants to associate Mark with good things, above or beyond anything that’s happened to them. Their history--and isn’t it such an awful thing, for that word to mean something bad, a detriment to their future rather than a benefit--has become a constellation of regret, one point connecting to another in a series of mistakes that Donghyuck can do nothing but trace every night, again and again. 

It’s not that they were hopeless, exactly. Just today, Donghyuck had learned so many things that may or may not help him figure out what to do, about trying for honesty and learning rules and for the first time he thinks he’s got a good shot at all of it. But he hasn’t figured out how his changes can translate to their relationship, or if it even will. Because it feels like going back to that situation would only cage him in, put him back to the very place he wants to escape from. And to think of Mark in that way, to label Mark as something bad, it claws at him. For all the insults he’s ever used on Mark, all the teasing and ribbing, he’s known since he was 13 that Mark is the person he would hold in highest regard. Always. No exception. And to let go of that belief, to stop seeing him as a hero as Mark had asked, feels like a betrayal to his teenage self, who used to follow Mark around with a devotion that really only fit the trembling string of infatuation. Like going through an old comic book and looking at your childhood hero and realizing that he was just human after all. 

It was a growing up that Donghyuck wasn’t sure he was ready for. But he had to if they were going to move forward. If he was going to move forward, because it seemed like Mark had already gone on ahead of him, grown up a little bit more than Donghyuck did, that dumb one year gap that he always tried to ignore finally rearing its ugly head, and he’s afraid that Mark wasn’t going to wait, that Mark was going to wait but will have to wait on him forever--or. Or Mark will try to slow down, has been slowing down just for him, and Donghyuck will try to catch up but he’ll fail to, and he’ll be left to chase down Mark’s shadow forever. 

The crushing loneliness of that possibility bears down on him, and he clutches Lottie’s hand like a lifeline. 

Hyung, will you teach me this new step? Will you do a duet with me? Will you stay while I finish practicing? Hyung, look--my teaser photo came out well! Even Taeyong hyung said so. Did you hear what PD-nim said? I have a solo dance! Hyung, I want to compose lyrics too. Why is it so hard? Teach me how! Hyung, your breath smells like the ramyeon we just ate, I’m not kissing you! You’re so sly, acting all awkward when you’d been planning to cuddle me all along. Hyung, look at me. Didn’t stylist-noona pick a great outfit? Hyung! Don’t compliment Nana in front of me, why are you so dense? Stupid hyung. Don’t you know that I--

“I love him,” he says, heart in his hand. His shaking, sweating hand, the tight grip matched only by Lottie’s steady one, the only feeling that tethered him to reality. It was so tight that he could, in fact, feel the pulse through his palm, and he wonders if Lottie can, too. And then--and then he feels the anger. 

Because why did his love taste so much like regret? Why did he not feel calm, or content, or free, or anything else he’d imagined he’d feel? Why did he feel like he was in a confession box, awaiting judgment and redemption? Why did he let it come to this? 

You’re not good enough for him. 

Why did he let Mark’s love be used against him so easily? 

What a waste. A senseless, childish waste. 

And if growing up meant putting a stop to that waste, to that specter of doubt that’s long overstayed its welcome, then damn it--he’ll go through all the growing pains to get there. 

“I love him,” he starts again, “but he’s gone and left me behind. And that idiot hasn’t even realized--hasn’t even given it a second thought, why we can’t just move forward. Why we might not fit the way we used to. Doesn’t he know?” 

Doesn’t he know that they’ve outgrown each other? 

“Such a moron,” he says, finally meeting Lottie’s eyes. Lottie looks back at him, attentive and thoughtful. 

“Might be something to do with genes. Matt can be a dumbass, too, giving people more chances than they should.” Like me, her eyes seem to say. 

“The genes in this family,” he says, “are crazy.” 

Lottie laughs, loosening her grip on Donghyuck’s hand before finally letting go, and he stretches and bends his fingers, one by one. They were a bit weak from exertion, but he knows that the strength will return, already feels a little bit of it as he repeatedly makes a fist. 

“How’re you feeling?” 

“I--” he pauses, looking at his lap, where his fist lay, and opens it, palm facing up, “I feel okay, I think. A bit better than before.” It was hard to explain, but it wasn’t a bad feeling. That was the important thing. 

“Good. It’s meant to be cathartic. Anyway--those things you said--they’ll stay between us. Though I think some of that was really meant for Mark. Right?” 

“Yeah. He--I think he deserves to hear it.” 

“The moron part especially.” They exchange grins, and Donghyuck nods, agreeing. 

“The moron part, for sure.” 

It’s been a long time since Donghyuck scolded Mark. Not in an argumentative way, or a teasing way, but like Donghyuck had something to teach him. 

And he thinks that he’ll have to lead Mark this time--explain where they stood and how Donghyuck wanted to proceed. 

“If you could choose,” Donghyuck says, “where would you get married?” 

“Honestly?” Lottie looks around, and Donghyuck fully expects her to say right here, but she doesn’t. “The skating rink.” 

He thinks of when they first met; how fast she was, all restless energy uninhibited as she hurled herself at Matt, who caught her easily. Skating down an aisle--crazy, really, totally unorthodox, maybe even childish. 

Donghyuck loves it, and says so. 

Lottie laughs, flipping her hair--not that it really worked, since her hair was too short--before helping Donghyuck up. She hugs him one last time before shooing Donghyuck upstairs, mouthing good night at the foot of the stairs, waiting for him to go all the way up before turning around and taking her leave. 

Stopping by Mark’s door, he turns the knob slowly, fully expecting to see Mark asleep in his bed. But Mark is not in his bed. Instead, Mark was asleep by his study table, head pillowed by his arms. Beneath his arms was the keyboard of his open laptop, already dark. There wasn’t any light except for the desk lamp, hitting Mark’s hair and the side of his face. 

Donghyuck gets the bed sheet and drapes it over Mark’s shoulders. Then he flicks the lamp off, but not before bending down to look at Mark’s half-hidden face, his slightly gaping mouth, the small, swollen eye bags. He’ll probably have a stiff neck when he wakes up. 

What a lost cause, he thinks. But he isn’t that surprised. Mark was always working on something. Maybe it was a new rap. Staying up late when he’d said he was going to bed early--well, he’d been acquainted with that particular habit for a while. Sometimes Mark even lied down next to him and waited for Donghyuck to fall asleep, before getting back up to work on his rap. Donghyuck had caught him a few times, though he never let on. 

So stubborn. To the point of idiocy, really. 

Just like me, he thinks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay haha that was really quite long, wasn't it? Anyway, tell me what you think in the comments! The next chapter will contain the resolution. Please be a bit more patient with me! 
> 
> P.S. The site that Donghyuck goes to is a real site!! Here is the link if you want to read: http://www.mdjunction.com/forums/panic-attacks-discussions/general-support/167618-has-anyone-been-violent-during-a-panic-attack


	6. Day 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “If those whom we begin to love could know us as we were before meeting them … they could perceive what they have made of us.” -Albert Camus, Notebooks 1951-1959

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! This is a bit later than I had expected to post, I hope it's alright. If you're even a little bit impressed with Mark in this chapter, I will be happy. Thank you for all the comments and kudos! 
> 
> Enjoy the chapter!

There’s a message--multiple messages, really--waiting for Donghyuck when he wakes up. Johnny hyung’s is a simple how are you, but Ten hyung sent a whole paragraph, broken up into a handful of messages. He asks what happened, then apologizes, then asks if Donghyuck is alright, then apologizes again. The messages stop fairly early, before Donghyuck and Mark had gone out for the walk, but one last message, around 2 hours before Donghyuck woke up, asks him again one last time, if he was okay.

Donghyuck messages them both to assure them that he’s fine, and adds an apology to Ten hyung’s, explaining that a lot had happened and he’ll catch him up on the details when he has the time. Today, though--today was Matt and Lottie’s wedding, and despite barely getting any sleep, he was wide awake and excited.

It was about 8 or so, which means that Sam and Jin had already gone ahead, and he had about two hours to prepare. He goes down to the kitchen to start breakfast for him and Mark, but is greeted by Mark’s back and the smell of pancakes.

He blinks. Mark turns to him and cracks a smile.

“Hey,” Mark says.

“Hey,” Donghyuck parrots back, “you’re cooking.”

“I am. I thought, since it’s a special occasion--well, anyway, I’m making blueberry pancakes.”

Donghyuck offers to help, but Mark waves him off and asks him to set the table. When they are both seated and the pancakes are ready, Donghyuck has mustered enough courage to say something.

“About yesterday,” he starts, and Mark looks at him, surprised, “I--I have something to say. But. After the wedding, maybe?”

“Okay,” Mark agrees, “that’s fine. Perfect.”

Donghyuck feels suspicious at how chipper Mark is, considering yesterday’s events, but then it was his brother’s wedding. Mark was probably focusing on that.

Resolving to do the same, Donghyuck eats the delicious pancakes with fervor. They really were good, a little on the raw side, just how he likes it. When they finish, Donghyuck wants to do the dishes, but Mark says that there’s only two so why not just wash their own plates? Donghyuck agrees but flicks water at Mark with his fingers, making Mark retaliate and they take about 10 minutes, dodging each other’s attacks while trying to sneak their own.

They agree to meet downstairs by 9, and then go to their respective rooms to get ready. Donghyuck, who’d learned to get ready on his own after becoming interested in make-up a few years back, finishes quicker than Mark. He’s down by a quarter to 9, and he wishes he could still walk for a while in the garden but couldn’t risk getting his pants dirty.

Mark comes down at 5 to 9, and he looks just as good as he would for any award show, making Donghyuck raise his eyebrows in question.

“What’s that look for? I can put on a suit just fine, you know,” Mark says, though he self consciously tugs on his tie, crumpling it and debunking said statement.

“Here, let me,” Donghyuck says, shooing Mark’s hands away and fixing it himself. Mark obediently stays still and waits for him to finish.

“There, all done.”

“Thanks, Hyuck,” Mark says, sheepish.

“Yeah, yeah,” Donghyuck says, though he might have stepped back a bit too quickly. He wonders if Mark noticed, “Well?”

“Well…?”

“Well, how do I look?” Donghyuck strikes his old diva pose (Nana’s words, not his), hand poised artfully on his forehead, and Mark chuckles.

“You look like a movie star, of course,” Mark says.

“I am a movie star, Mark, honestly,” Donghyuck rolls his eyes, though really it’s to cover the pleased gleam that’s no doubt shining through.

“Okay, then you look like the number one in the top ten most handsome movie stars of our generation,” Mark says, visibly pleased that he’d come up with such a compliment.

“Smooth, Mark Lee,” Donghyuck says, unmoved. Anyway, in the last poll he was only number 8.

“I can be smooth,” Mark protests, following Donghyuck as he makes his way to leave the house, “Oh wait!”

Mark goes to the refrigerator, and comes out with two red roses in full bloom, stems already cut.

“Mom cut these for us this morning. Here,” he says giving one to Donghyuck, and they both pin the flowers on their suits.

The ride to the venue is mostly quiet, with one of their old albums playing as a background. Donghyuck thinks Mark looks a bit nervous, tapping his finger on the steering wheel repeatedly.

“The wedding will probably go well,” Donghyuck says.

“Yeah. I mean, I’m sure it will. I’m just nervous--for the speech.”

“You’re making a speech?”

“Didn’t I tell you? Matt asked me to make one. Usually it’s the best man, but Kris said that it was more appropriate that I talk. So I made something--I dunno if it’s any good, though.”  


“Do you want me to read over it?” It was hardly like a rap, but Donghyuck could still check for any careless errors or strange-sounding phrases.

“No, it’s fine. It’s--really personal.”

But aren’t you going to read it in front of everyone anyway? Donghyuck wants to ask, but figures that Mark was being scatterbrained about it because he was worried. Anyway he could show Jin or Sam when they got to the venue.

“Okay. But you’ll do fine. I mean, the audience is what, 100, 150 max? That’s barely anything; even High School Rapper had more people.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I know. Anyway you were as nervous as me, if I remember it right.”

Snorting, Donghyuck says, “I was the only one who knew you were working on two hours of sleep. I was wondering what I’d do if you collapsed on stage.”

“Jeno said you were praying backstage.”

“Only so you wouldn’t embarrass yourself. That definitely required some divine assistance,” Donghyuck teases, though he remembers exactly what he was praying for. He wanted Mark to have fun. Also to win, but mostly he just wanted Mark to perform a stage with no regrets. He’d worked so hard.

“You looked nervous even during the recording, though.”

“Second-hand embarrassment. Seriously, who thought it was a good idea to show those videos of you when we were young? Cringey, hyung.” Donghyuck was exaggerating. He knows they did it to show how far Mark had come, from his early days auditioning for SM up to that very stage. It was a little inspirational. But that didn’t make it less cringe-y.

“Hey, I thought it was a pretty good idea. It definitely gave me some strength, remembering how I started out.”

“Whatever you say. Anyway, if you really need some encouragement, just find my face. Though maybe don’t go up to me and ask for a high five. Might be a bit too much.”

Mark laughs. “Lottie would love that.”

She would, Donghyuck thinks.

“On second thought, maybe we should do that. At least it’ll give Lottie something to laugh about.” Get some pressure off of her.

“I know you’re worried,” Mark says, softening, “but it’ll still be great. Matt will make sure of it.”

Donghyuck nods, though he thinks that if push comes to shove then he could say something. He wasn’t part of Matt’s family, technically, so it wouldn’t look that bad. They could just write him off as some belligerent foreigner who happened to be Mark’s guest. Maybe.

When they get to the venue, Donghyuck is distracted by the view of the sea. It’s absolutely gorgeous, just as beautiful as Jeju’s, and he wants to run out into the sand and splash around in the crashing waves. He doesn’t, but he does get a picture and uploads it in the group’s chat.

“Let’s go to Matt’s room first,” Mark says, and they enter the inn where everyone is getting ready. It’s...opulent, all sleek, spotless walls, with large chandeliers hanging overhead. It’s clearly not just for anybody, the aura of exclusivity hanging on the coattails of all the staff and guests.

They get to Matt’s room, and when they open the door they are greeted by Lottie’s father. He is a tall, stately looking man, with a slightly round belly and hair that was thinning at the sides.

“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you,” he says, taking Mark’s hand, “it’s a shame that we didn’t have the chance to meet earlier, with both our families present.”

“A shame,” Mark says, smiling, and Donghyuck darts his gaze away to stop from laughing. His eyes land on Matt and Jin. Matt was seated, and Jin was bending down so that they were eye to eye, and he was--loosening his tie? Then, he inches it to the left side, then a bit to the right, before tightening it again. Jin makes a disgruntled noise, clearly unsatisfied, before repeating the process all over again. Catching Donghyuck’s eye, Matt mouths the word “perfectionist.” Donghyuck grins, amused.

“Your guest?” Lottie’ father asks, and Donghyuck turns with a thankfully still genuine smile, taking his handshake.

“Lottie says you’re in the same...singing group?”

“Idol group,” Mark says, “we are. We’re called Neo-Culture Technology.”

Lottie’s dad smiles as if he’d just been told a joke, then says, “How...futuristic.”

“Very,” Donghyuck says, though he’s hoping the short reply will tip him off to end the conversation. It seems to work, since he nods politely and excuses himself, leaving the room, Mark and Donghyuck bidding him polite goodbyes.

“That was enlightening,” Donghyuck says.

“If by enlightening you mean painful, then you’re right,” Mark says.

They go to where Matt and Jin are, and Jin finally looks up from his painstaking efforts to notice them.

“When did you get here?” Jin asks, surprised.

“Just now, really,” Mark says, looking at Matt’s loose tie questioningly.

“Oh, this stupid thing--I just can’t get it right.”

“I could give it a try,” Donghyuck volunteers, but Jin shakes his head.

“No, no, a father has to do it. It’s a matter of pride.”

Mark’s eyes narrow in confusion, while Matt snorts.

“See what I’ve had to deal with since this morning?”

“He’s just nervous,” Mark says.

“He is right here,” Jin says, before crouching back down and resuming his work. Matt shrugs in a what can you do? gesture, and Mark laughs and crouches down by his dad, helping him get the angle right. Not that he was much better at it, really.

“Look who’s ready to steal the show,” Kris says from behind Donghyuck. Donghyuck grins, seeing Kris in the suit they’d fit a few days ago.

“Hardly,” Donghyuck says.

“Who said I was talking about you?” Kris says, startling a laugh out of Donghyuck. He circles around slowly, gesturing to himself, “Not to say you don’t look mighty fine, but what about this piece of perfection?”

“Should I go and warn Matt?”

“Nah, I’m no homewrecker. Or--On second thought, maybe give Lottie a heads up.”

Donghyuck’s eyes go wide at the implication, making Kris slap his back placatingly while laughing.

“Actually, I think I’ll go and do just that,” Donghyuck says, making Kris sputter and Matt, who’d been listening in, start laughing as well.

“Lottie’s waiting for you, actually,” Matt says, “told me to tell you to come as soon as you can. I was pretty confused, but apparently you have something she needs?”

Mark looks at Donghyuck curiously, but Donghyuck is careful not to show his surprise or confusion. He didn’t have anything for Lottie, and he can’t recall Lottie telling him to bring anything for her. Still, he figures it’s probably just an excuse to talk, so she wouldn’t have to explain to Matt what had happened last night.

“Want me to come with you?” Mark asks.

“No, it’s fine. Her room is--”

“Just down the hall, to the right,” Matt says, smiling, “no way you’d get lost.”

“Okay,” Donghyuck says, nodding to all of them one last time before excusing himself.

He finds the door to Lottie’s room easily, decorated with a sign that says BRIDE in loopy script. Barely two quick knocks in, Lottie’s rather distressed voice interrupts him.

“Dad I swear if it’s you again I’m just going to--” she stops abruptly once the door swings open, revealing Donghyuck on the other side.

“Going to what?”

“Oh thank god it’s you, come here!” Lottie hauls--literally hauls--Donghyuck into the room,  his feet a few centimeters up from the ground as he crosses the entryway.

“Are you sure you shouldn’t be more careful?” Donghyuck asks, gesturing to Lottie’s already fully made up face.

“It’s fine, it’s fine,” Lottie says, though her high pitched tone and stumbling made it clear that it wasn’t. She sounded a bit harassed, really.

“Did something happen?”

“That depends on your definition of “something.” Technically, nothing’s happened.”

Donghyuck looks at Lottie’s perfectly made-up face, in contrast to her wide eyes and tense mouth. Then he looks around the room; it is perfectly clean, with the wedding dress on a mannequin at the corner, a shroud of pristine, pearl white. Nothing is out of place, except maybe that Lottie was alone when he was expecting to see her mom, Sam or even some bridesmaids.

Donghyuck knows the things that happen, when you’re alone.

“But something’s happened,” he says, “inside your head?”

Lottie’s mouth twitches, as if it was caught between a smile and grimace.

“I guess I don’t have to explain, then,” Lottie says, sitting back down with a huff. She looks at Donghyuck through the vanity mirror, posture crumpled, “my mom and Sam are outside, making sure everything is in order. Matt’s with dad--and Mark, I’m assuming--getting ready. And--I’m just. Here. Wallowing.”

“You mean you’re getting ready,” he corrected.

She pauses, looking at the makeup scattered on top of the table, “I’m supposed to be getting ready.”

“No,” he shakes his head, “you’re getting ready. Inside--in your head.” He pauses, trying to think of the right way to say it. Why was he so bad with words?

“I’m pretty sure I’d be thinking of something more productive if I was trying for image training.”

“Before performances, I would be really nervous. I still am. But it’s not the kind of nervous I feel...not like yesterday. It’s scary, but it’s also exciting. A good scary. And being scared--it’s one of the reasons I can perform well.”

Donghyuck wishes he can explain it better. There’s a thrumming in his chest, when he hears the fans scream. It’s exhilarating, and it feels exactly like being nervous, but it’s not the same. He thinks maybe Lottie had mistaken it. It’s possible to feel something and think it means something else. Sometimes, the heavy feeling, the disorientation, it’s not a bad thing.

There’s a kind of happiness that makes your heart pound, too.

Lottie hums, considering his words, “Maybe you’re right. Maybe it’s supposed to be this scary. I wouldn’t know what to do if I was calm, anyway.”

“Did you get any sleep before coming here?”

“Nope. Too tense. Plus, I was thinking about what you said. About outgrowing.”

“You were?” Donghyuck frowns, wondering if he’s made Lottie worry about her own relationship. That definitely wasn’t his intention.

“Yeah. It reminded me of this story I like. About a prince, and his rose,” she pauses, “though really I’d been thinking about it since I saw the flowers for the wedding. Red roses, you know.” She looks at the rose on Donghyuck’s suit, then to the window, where a vase full of sun-drenched red roses were perched.

The prince she was talking about was probably from the book titled The Little Prince. Yuta hyung loved that children’s book, too. Donghyuck had read it once, a long long time ago, but he’d found it confusing, and it had a sad ending...he thinks. He doesn’t really remember.

“How does outgrowing each other relate to that children’s story?”

“Well, in the story the prince and the rose loved each other. But the rose was vain and selfish, and the prince grew tired. So he went away for a little bit. But at the end, see, he returned to her. Probably.”

“Probably?”

“The story doesn’t go all the way to that part. You don’t really know if the prince sees his rose again. I used to cry over that when I was a kid. Like, I was so totally sure that he didn’t see her again, or that his sheep ate the rose by accident. And the stars were weeping.”

“But if you didn’t know, why couldn’t you just believe that they saw each other again?”

“Honestly? I was just a really pessimistic kid. I didn’t like thinking that I could be wrong, so I’d rather not hope at all.”

That was a relatable sentiment. He remembers how optimistic he was, after getting into SM and debuting. He’d been so excited. But then during his debut stage, he barely got any lines. It was understandable, but it still confused him. At first, he’d thought it was just that he needed to work harder, that he didn’t deserve it yet. But then if it was about deserving it, Johnny hyung should have debuted first. Hansol hyung shouldn’t have decided to quit. So maybe it was more about being favored. Mark hyung was favored, and of course so was Taeyong hyung. He preferred that explanation, because then it was easier to stomach that he wasn’t to blame. That the problem wasn’t him, but a bunch of other things that he had no control of, really. He just had to keep his head down, work hard. Don’t mess up. Be grateful.

“What about now? Do you still think that the stars are weeping?”

“Sometimes.”

“But today? In particular?” Donghyuck presses.

“Oh--you mean?” Lottie breaks eye contact to look at the corner of the room where her wedding dress was. Then she grins, and Donghyuck thinks that a smile really does suit her best.

“Today, at least,” she says, “the stars are laughing.”

Donghyuck beams at her, and dares to hope that the stars will laugh for him, too.

Sam comes in about 10 minutes later, and Donghyuck excuses himself to let Lottie get dressed, though he doesn’t leave without Sam fussing over his suit for at least a few minutes, much to Lottie’s mirth. He leaves with a goodbye hug from them both, and a reminder to make sure all the boys weren’t sidetracked and to get ready on time. He sees Lottie’s mom on his way to Matt’s room, spying a folded, delicate white cloth cradled in her hands. He couldn’t help but feel surprised, that the veil didn’t arrive with the dress, and why it came so late. Lottie’s mom didn’t seem like the type to forgive even the smallest of mistakes.

When he enters Matt’s room he is greeted by a peculiar sight. Matt is still not wearing his jacket, and he didn’t have his tie on either, collar still up. He is looking at Jin and Kris, who are in a heated discussion, arms waving as they debate on using another tie, since the tie that Jin had been trying to put on was crumpled. As far as Donghyuck could see, both ties looked exactly the same, but Jin insisted that the tie he’d been trying to put on Matt was better. Mark was seated not far from Matt, and was--as Donghyuck steps closer and peers at his phone--playing a puzzle game.

Mark glances up to Donghyuck’s incredulous face, and they look at each other for about a second and a half before they both burst out laughing.

The sound interrupts Kris and Jin’s argument, both of them turning to look at Mark and Donghyuck, askance at the sudden laughter. It makes them laugh harder, and soon Donghyuck is leaning almost his entire body on Mark, hand steady on his shoulder.

Then, Donghyuck clears his throat and says, “Lottie’s putting on her dress, so you might want to put your jacket on soon.”

Matt jumps up his seat, “Oh shit, are you sure? We’re ahead of schedule.”

“Better to be early, just in case,” Donghyuck shrugs, watching all of them spring into action, including Mark who asks politely but firmly for his dad to stop freaking out and just tie it already, before Sam barges in and scolds them all. Through it all, he shoots Donghyuck looks that only years of friendship can enable him to understand, and Donghyuck laughs under his breath while taking pictures on his phone to show to Sam and Lottie later.

“Did Lottie get what she needed?” Matt asks, turning his head to look at Donghyuck for one last time before he and Mark leave to go to their seats.

“Um, yeah,” Donghyuck says, thinking back to their conversation, “I think she did.”

Matt nods, looking reassured, and as the door closes, Donghyuck keeps his eyes on Matt’s face through the reflection of the mirror. He finds it a bit sad, that Lottie had to worry alone, but he’s also thankful that Matt didn’t have to deal with it. Not being a burden to the ones they love--Donghyuck understands that sentiment the best.

“What did you have to give Lottie?” Mark asks.

“Nothing, actually,” Donghyuck admits, “just a pep talk, I guess?”

“A pep talk? About her wedding?” Mark says, incredulous, “is it cold feet?”

“No, no,” Donghyuck rushes to clarify, arms waving, “it’s not really about Matt. It’s just a big day, and she was left alone…”

Mark blinks at him, still clearly confused, but Donghyuck isn’t really sure how else to explain it. These sudden issues that materialize out of thin air and then are blown out of proportion inside your head, even though really outside of your head it’s not even an issue.

“Anyway, your mom’s there now so there’s no need to worry.”

“If you say so.”

When they get outside, Donghyuck has to raise his arm to shield his eyes from the piercing sunlight. The inn is connected to the actual wedding venue through a cherry wood pathway. A little farther are steps, surrounded by jagged rocks, that lead to the wide, covered platform that gives a perfect, close-up view of the rolling waves. As they go down, Donghyuck can’t help but look up in response to the call of the seagulls flying overhead, as if they were giving their own salutations.

Once seated, Mark looks around restlessly, smiling and greeting the guests that have already arrived, before turning to Donghyuck with barely concealed excitement, “This is going to sound ridiculous but it’s just hitting me that my brother is really getting married.”

“It didn’t hit you when you were helping him with his suit?” Donghyuck asks wryly.

“Um, not really?” Mark says sheepishly, “it’s just, the vibe here is so…”

“Wedding-like?”

Mark slaps Donghyuck’s arm, and Donghyuck doesn’t even avoid it, too preoccupied with laughing.

“It really is beautiful, though,” Donghyuck says, focusing on the glistening, blue horizon the rhythmic waves lapping at the shore. A perfect day.

“It’s almost like you can hear the stars laughing,” Donghyuck mumbles absent-mindedly.

“What?” Mark asks abruptly, startling Donghyuck with his sharp tone, “what do you mean?”

“Uh, do you remember Yuta hyung’s favorite story? The Little Prince?”

“Yeah, of course,” Mark says, his voice losing its edge, “but--you just brought it up out of nowhere, so I got surprised.”

“Actually, it’s one of Lottie’s favorites, too,” Donghyuck says, “she mentioned it, when we were talking.”

“She did?” Mark says, glancing at the direction of the inn, as if he could catch Lottie from this distance, “what about it?”

Donghyuck pauses, flustered at the thought of having to explain the context, “It was just in passing. The rose--I mean, I--we--are wearing red roses, so she was reminded of it.”

“Oh,” Mark says, slumping into his chair, “okay.”

Donghyuck shoots him a look, but Mark is busy staring at the ground and doesn’t catch it. Why was Mark being so weird? Did it have to do with the talk they had yesterday? But it didn’t seem even remotely connected.

“Mark, is everything alright?”

Mark turns to him, surprised by the question, but smiles and pats Donghyuck’s knee in response.

“Yeah. Don’t worry. I’m just nervous about the speech, I guess.”

“Did you get Jin or Kris to look at it?”

“Yeah, they did. It’s fine. And you? Are you fine?”

“...Yes? More than fine. I’m really friggin excited, actually.” Donghyuck couldn’t wait to see Lottie in her wedding dress. And exchange vows. And rings. And the kiss! Oh, he was getting a bit giddy just thinking about it.

“Good, good.”

Donghyuck looks at Mark, more than a little confused and exasperated by his weird behavior. However, he accepts the explanation that Mark is nervous, and lets it go.

Slowly, the guests trickle in until most of the venue is full. Kris, Jin, Sam, and Matt all go down together, and when Donghyuck sees them he feels his hands getting clammy. As they take their places, he tries to discreetly wipe the sweat off using the side of his thigh, Mark glancing at him with a knowing smile before continuing his conversation with Sam.

Then, as all heads turn and a sacred silence falls upon the crowd, Donghyuck takes a deep breath, feeling his chest rise and fall, and looks.

The first thing that catches his attention is that the veil that Lottie is wearing has roses embroidered on it. It’s a strange detail to latch on to, especially because it was quite tiny from Donghyuck’s vantage point, but he sees it clear as day, the sunlight falling upon them reminding him of the roses in Lottie’s room. Lottie’s red hair accentuates it, and as he trains his eyes on Lottie’s smiling face, he thinks of a rose reaching full bloom, its petals opening delicately, ready to be admired by those fortunate enough to see it. She floats down the aisle in a cloud of white, eyes on Matt, and as she reaches out her hand to him, he thinks of how some flowers bend and stretch in search of the sun.

“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to celebrate the love...”

When it was time for the vows, Donghyuck grips the edge of his jacket in anticipation without realizing it. Only when Mark taps his thumb against the fist does he startle out of his reverie, letting go of the crumpled cloth in surprise.

But the true shock that left Donghyuck at the edge of his seat came in the form of the wedding vows. To be more specific, Matt’s vows.

“Lottie,” he says, “before we’d met, you were just one girl like a hundred thousand other girls. I had no need of you. And you, on your part, had no need of me. To you, I was nothing more than a boy, like a hundred thousand other boys. But since we’d met, we started the long, arduous process of taming each other. We created our own rites, building our lives around each other, and now I can scarcely imagine waking up to a new day without your questionably nutritious smoothie, and likely your day cannot end without my massaging your feet after a hard day at work. And now, to me, you are and always will be unique in all the world. I vow to uphold this responsibility towards you forever.”

Donghyuck had been so focused on Matt’s face that, once he’d turned his gaze towards Lottie’s, he was met with the brightest of smiles, and a rainfall of tears. He himself had realized, when Matt had used the word “tame”, that he was quoting from the book. He turned to look at Mark, and is shocked to find that Mark was already looking back at him, watching him. He wanted to ask, if this was why Mark had acted so strange; if he’d known that Matt was planning to use this for his vows. It made sense, then, the panic he was met with when he had mentioned Lottie talking about it. Mark was afraid that Lottie had somehow known or figured it out. But then Lottie was speaking, and Mark turned his attention back to them, breaking their eye contact.

“Matt,” Lottie says, trying hard to stop sniffling as she clears her throat, “before we’d met, I was so comfortable with my loneliness. I held it up like a badge for everyone to admire. I thought it meant that I was strong. That I could do it all on my own, be on my own. But I realize now how naive I was being. The truth was that I was scared. I was scared of the idea that my life would no longer be my own, that my happiness will stop being only my own. But the kind of happiness that’s shared, that’s given from one willing heart to another, that’s the kind of happiness that I can’t feel on my own. That’s what you give me. And today I vow to protect the root of that happiness; the love that feeds it, the respect that nourishes it. The friendship that shines on its leaves. Until the very end, when the sun sets and it’s time to give back to the earth all that it’s blessed us with.”

When they exchange rings, the gold shines against the sunlight, like a quivering star.

“By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride.”

As an applause washes over the crowd, and Lottie and Matt share a kiss, Donghyuck sees Sam’s garden sprouting all around them. He lets out a breath, and claps for the roses that have bloomed.

When the ceremony finishes and the guests are ushered to the venue for the after-party, Donghyuck nudges Mark’s arm, “You knew about Matt’s vow, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, I did,” Mark admits, “I’d actually helped him come up with it. I’d really thought that I had somehow let it slip to Lottie without realizing, when you mentioned it.”

“Sorry about that,” Donghyuck says, feeling a bit guilty. Mark must have been really nervous, up until the exchange of vows.

“It’s fine,” Mark says, “I’m actually not surprised that Lottie brought it up on the day of her wedding. It’s her favorite love story, after all.”

As the program for the after-party starts, Donghyuck catches Mark playing with his fingers under the table more than once.

“You’re really nervous about the speech, aren’t you?”

“Yeah. I’m going after a short speech from Mom, so…”

Donghyuck squeezes Mark’s wrist in reassurance. He can practically feel Mark’s nerves, affecting the air around him and traveling to Donghyuck. It was that palpable.

When Sam finishes her speech and Mark stands up, they exchange one last look before Mark’s face changes to his “performance” smile, his aura relaxing to a more calm and collected image. Donghyuck thinks of HSR and decides to mumble a short prayer, so Mark won’t mess up.

“First, I’d like to give my congratulations to my brother and his wife,” Mark begins, raising his glass. Everyone follows suit, and toasts with him, “when my brother and his best friend Kris, who is his best man today, asked me to make the speech, I had been hesitant to say yes. I thought it was more fitting for Kris to do it, to let him reminisce on Matt and Lottie’s love story, which I hadn’t really been there to witness, and how it all unfolded. I realize now though that it’s because I wasn’t there, that Matt wants to hear what I have to say. He also just wants to see me be nervous in front of a crowd again--” laughter-- “so if the speech isn’t to his liking, at least he’ll have that.”

“When I first wrote the speech, I put down that I wished for your happiness,” Mark says, turning straight towards Lottie and Matt, “and of course I do want that. I wish you two all the happiness in the world. In the universe, even. But more than happiness, I realized that there’s something else I wished even more than happiness: I wish for the love you share to give you meaning. I wish that Matt will continue to hear Lottie’s laugh in every melody he works on. I wish that Lottie will see the skyscrapers she’d once drawn and think of the stains from the coffee that Matt made for her on the blueprints. I wish that Matt will stop to look at the art on the walls or in the streets because Lottie would have. I wish that Lottie will look out the window of a plane and admire the ocean, because Matt would have. I wish that everything you do, everything you see, will be colored in by your love and affection for each other. I hope that you see good things, bad things, and see them through the viewfinder of each other’s cameras. Because love--love is in the listening. The understanding, the enduring. The meaning-making. And while you make something of your lives, when you chase your dreams, regret your mistakes, and decide that it was all worth it, you’ll turn to each other,”--here he stops, and for one surreal moment, looks directly at Donghyuck-- “you’ll turn to each other, and you’ll see--you did something right. Something good. Something meaningful.”

The applause when Mark finishes and hugs Lottie and Matt is probably very loud, maybe even deafening, but Donghyuck can’t hear it over the sound of his own heartbeat. He blinks, feeling his eyes sting, but he’s not sure whether it’s due to a lack or excess of moisture. He excuses himself to go to the bathroom, leaving even before Mark reaches his seat.

Feeling the refreshing cold water against his skin as he washes his face, Donghyuck looks at his reflection in the mirror. His face is a bit flushed, but it wasn’t too noticeable, especially against his tan skin tone. His heart's still pounding, and his hands feel a bit weak, but otherwise, he definitely looked normal.

He wonders if Mark came up with the speech last night. Was that the reason he’d fallen asleep on his desk? Not because of a new rap? Donghyuck could be wrong, but he’s fairly sure that the speech was a direct reply to the question he’d posed--about how Mark can be sure that he can make him happy.

And his answer--his answer was that it didn’t matter. Because that wasn’t the point. That wasn’t what they were about. Not for Mark. And it wasn’t even that Donghyuck didn’t think that happiness was unimportant, because it was. It can’t be ignored, and they will have to talk about it, and figure that part out, but there’s something beyond that, too. Something that Mark was reaching for, before Donghyuck even knew it existed.

But now he does, and he believes in it, too.

When he comes back to their table, Mark, who he’d spied talking to Kris, was suddenly next to him in a flash, startling Donghyuck into jumping a little. Mark, who seems frazzled, also startles at Donghyuck’s sudden movement and flinches a little. They look at each other.

“Where did you go?”

“I had to pee,” Donghyuck says, breaking their little stare-off.

“Right. Okay, of course,” Mark babbles. Donghyuck feels a little pity, but it’s immediately overpowered by amusement when Mark brings his hands up to fix his hair for no apparent reason other than not knowing what to do with them.

The food comes and they busy themselves eating, Mark occasionally pointing out the guests he knows. When they finish, the dancing starts, and they all turn to watch Lottie dance with Matt. Neither of them were very good but what they lacked in skill they made up in enthusiasm, and soon most of the guests were clapping in time with the beat as they played a more upbeat song, much to the visible annoyance of Lottie’s mom.

Lottie comes to their table, and Donghyuck fully expects her to ask Mark to dance, but instead she turns to him and asks, “Wanna tango?”

“I don’t know how to do that,” Donghyuck says.

“How about you just do one of your song choreos, then?”

“Someone might have a seizure,” Donghyuck is referring to Lottie’s mom, but really anyone who was too near Donghyuck as he attempts to do even their tamest dances will probably be scandalized.

“Really? Damn, waltz it is then,” she says, and ushers Donghyuck to the dance floor, Mark waving them off with a smile. A smile that quickly evaporates when he himself is tugged to the dance floor by a rather hyperactive woman, about their age, maybe a little older.

“So? What’d you think?” Lottie asks as they settle into a rhythm.

“Marriage suits you,” Donghyuck says, purposely avoiding the topic and hoping Lottie will let it go once he compliments her.

“Thanks, but you and I both know we’re talking about Mark’s touching confession back there. Smart move, using the speech. Really can’t underestimate those genes.”

“He said he helped with Matt’s vows, too,” Donghyuck says, and Lottie pauses a little, clearly distracted by the memory of it.

“It was inspired,” Lottie says, “I figured that Matt couldn’t have come up with that on his own. He’s not that romantic, you know.”

Neither is Mark, Donghyuck wants to say, but well, maybe he’d have to review that opinion. Mark’s speech was very romantic, bordering on (if he was being kind about it) sappy.

“Oooh, he’s been stolen by a friend of mine, Penny,” Lottie says, bringing Donghyuck’s attention to where Mark and that girl he’d seen before were dancing and talking.

“Wanna get a closer look?” Before Donghyuck could reply, Lottie twirls them deftly to the direction of Mark and Penny. When they get close enough, Donghyuck realizes that they--or Mark, at least--was actually talking quite passionately about something.

“Rap’s been more and more accepted as a kind of poetry, but the real difference has to do with how the musicality of the poem is in the words itself, instead of needing a beat or notes--”

“Right,” Lottie says, and twirls them away.

 

Donghyuck muffles his laughter into Lottie’s shoulder, because of course Mark would start talking about the merits of rap as poetry to someone he’d just met.

“Speaking of poetry,” Lottie says, “did you see my wedding cake? Now that’s poetry.”

“Edible poetry?”

“The best kind,” Lottie says, resolute, as she tugs on his arm and leads him to the cake table.

While they are eating, Donghyuck is once again asked about Mark’s speech. Figuring that since even cake would not dissuade Lottie, he decides to give in.

“It’s a lot to take in,” Donghyuck starts, “I mean, I was moved--and I think something definitely changed. But we still have to talk about it. But I definitely see things differently.”

The incoherence in his speech is getting ridiculous.

“He made a great point,” Lottie says, “about love, and meaning. It’s a different way of seeing things.”

“Yeah,” Donghyuck says, smiling fondly,  “Mark’s always been good at that. It’s part of his talent.”

“What’s my talent?” Mark asks, plopping down beside them with a curious look.

“Dancing,” Lottie says, “go and dance with Donghyuck, would you?”

Mark sputters, caught off guard, and Donghyuck shoots Lottie a look.

“Um, I’m not really that great--”

Mark cuts himself off as Donghyuck turns to look at him with a mix of exasperation and disbelief.

Finally, Donghyuck says, “If you say that one more time and let me laugh obnoxiously like I deserve to, I promise not to step on your foot.”

Mark pauses, processing what Donghyuck had just implied as Lottie snorts.

Then, he says, “I’m awful at dancing.”

Donghyuck chuckles, “Close enough,” and stands up, leading the way.

Once they’re on the dance floor, it’s clear that Mark isn’t really sure whether he can touch Donghyuck or not. His hands hover over Donghyuck’s waist, inching closer but not touching, and Donghyuck sighs and takes his hands firmly, guiding them in their last few centimeters to his waist. Then, he puts his own on Mark’s shoulders, and they start swaying.

“You’re being--”

“Bold? Pushy? Different?”

“You’re usually bold and pushy,” Mark points out, and Donghyuck makes an indignant face, “I mean, you’re...touching me.”

“Yeah, well,” Donghyuck says, a bit of defensiveness creeping into his tone, “I’m still not over the punch or anything, but I figured you deserved something, after that speech of yours.”

Mark looks even more confused than he did before, but he nods and accepts it.

They sway to the music, and Donghyuck pretends not to notice how Mark’s head was slowly but surely coming closer and closer to rest on his shoulder. By the time he feels Mark’s breath against his neck, he allows himself to mirror the action, and he is suddenly reminded of how sometimes, when he had a hard time sleeping, he used to trace Mark’s collarbones again and again until he fell asleep. The intimacy of the memory surprises him, and he closes his eyes and prays with everything he’s got that the conversation they will have will go well. That he’d be able to say what he wants to say, and Mark will listen, and then Mark can say what he wants, and he will listen. And even though they might not see eye to eye, they will still somehow meet halfway, instead of this awful dance that’s made them miss the other, again and again even when all they wanted was to make their way back to each other.

As the after-party winds down and guests start to leave, Mark and Donghyuck stay with Sam and Jin to help thank everyone for coming. Mark then says that he and Donghyuck will take a walk by the beach, and Sam tells them that he and Donghyuck can come home for dinner or stay at the inn, where they will be having a meal with Lottie’s parents. Donghyuck thinks that they should stay, but as Sam gives him a hug, she whispers to him that it’s alright if he wants to spend the night with just Mark, and they can do something tomorrow since Mark and Donghyuck’s flight was at night. Donghyuck nods against her shoulder, and she runs a comforting hand up and down his back. He imagines the pressure of her hand giving him strength.

It turns out that Mark packed different shoes for them in the car to wear so that they could walk comfortably on the sand, and Donghyuck is annoyed and impressed by Mark’s foresight.

As they make their way down to the beach, coming closer and closer to the shore, the sun begins to set and the once bright blue sky begins to gain an undertone of orange and red. It kinda looked like a postcard in those tourist stores that he and the others would go to, to buy cheap gifts for their families since they didn’t really have time to go shopping.

Keeping his eyes trained on the horizon, Donghyuck says, “I figured something out last night.” From the corner of his eye, he can see Mark stopping and turning to look at him.

“I figured out that you were right, about heroes. I can’t see you that way anymore, not if I want to stop comparing us to each other. You were also right, about what you did to me. What you do to me. I do feel less, when I look at you.”

Donghyuck looks at Mark, who was staring at him intently, not moving, maybe not even breathing.

“I also think that you were wrong. We can’t just move on, or let go of what happened. At least I can’t. So we have to…” Donghyuck swallows, “we have to figure out that part together. But not like...I mean, I need you to listen to me when I say that things aren’t okay. Just listen. Don’t try to fix things, or take care of me. I know it seems like I can’t handle myself, I’m not good with words, I get moody...but still. Still.”

He thinks that maybe he messed up the last part, but everything else sounded okay, so he hopes that Mark understood it anyway. Suddenly, Mark looks away, looking around the beach distractedly, and Donghyuck thinks maybe he did mess up.

“Mark?”

Mark doesn’t mind the call, walking a bit farther from Donghyuck, then he bends down and gets--is that a stick? A twig?--and comes back.

He tugs at Donghyuck’s arm and then uses the stick to write down on the sand, in big letters, LISTEN.

“Okay, point one is to listen, instead of fixing things or handling things for you,” he says as he finishes, looking up at Donghyuck with a serious expression, “What else?”

Donghyuck isn’t sure why Mark thinks writing it down on the sand--where it will get blown or washed away--will help Mark remember what he was saying, but then Mark also used to write ideas on his palm with eyebrow pencil, so fine.

“Uh, rules?” Donghyuck says, unsure, “I mean, I think rules will help me cope better with my anxiety. But I haven’t really thought of what kind…” And it was more for him than for them, really.

“How about boundaries?” Mark asks, “For example, your individual schedules. I won’t meddle in that anymore unless you ask my opinion. Things like that?”

“That sounds good,” Donghyuck says, and watches Mark write below his previous word, SET BOUNDARIES.

“We need to talk more,” Donghyuck suddenly says, “I know it’s mostly me who’s always evasive and hard to talk to, but…”

“I’m bad at it, too,” Mark says, “I think, at one point, I kind of got used to filling in the silences you left. So I’d read between the lines and stopped bothering to check if I was right. Johnny hyung says I tend to assume stuff a lot.”

“It’s both our problems,” Donghyuck says, because he definitely wasn’t innocent of his own assumptions. Mark writes down COMMUNICATION.

“If it’s too hard to talk about, we can write it down.”

“What...like a letter?”

“It doesn’t have to be all that formal, but I definitely have things I can say better on paper. It might work for you, too.”

Donghyuck thinks for a moment, what he’d want to say to Mark if he were to write it down on paper. He thinks of heroes and victims. He thinks of his regrets, the ones that keep him up at night. He thinks of outgrowing each other, and the unfathomable loneliness he’s felt, when he thinks of Mark’s shrinking shadow.

“Yeah, okay,” he concedes.

“Can I add something?”

Mark writes down HONESTY. Donghyuck’s eyebrows rise, wondering if this was Mark asking for more honesty. He does deserve it, but Donghyuck had thought it was implied that he’d try--

“This one’s for me,” he says, “I haven’t been honest with you, and I thought I was protecting you, by appearing strong, but obviously that backfired. I want you to know,” he grips the stick tighter, staring at the letters he’d written as he retraces it again, making it thicker, “I want you to know that it’s hard for me, to see you hurting. I’ve said this before, but I never really went into it. When I wake up and see you in the kitchen, with your glass of water--I’ve never felt more powerless. More limited. And it’s hard for me, to accept that I can’t do anything for you.”

“Mark,” Donghyuck says helplessly.

“I don’t want you to feel guilty about it,” Mark says, “it’s something I have to deal with on my own. It’s how I came to the meaning-making thing, you know. I thought, even though I can’t do anything, can’t change anything, maybe just by being beside you, something might be different. Maybe you’ll see something differently. Maybe you’ll understand something better. I don’t know. You know I always want to see the glass half full.”

Donghyuck’s gaze drifts back and forth from Mark’s downturned face to the word written on the sand. He had no idea that Mark was feeling that way. Why didn’t he realize the toll it took on Mark?

“I’m sorry,” he whispers.

“I’m not,” Mark replies, “this is just how it is. Anyone who loves anyone feels this way. We’re just no exception.”

Mark straightens, looking at Donghyuck with a resolute expression, conviction hanging from the tilt of his chin.

“It’ll get washed away,” Donghyuck says, approaching Mark so that they stood side by side, getting a closer view of the list of words.

“What?”

“The words. They’ll be gone by morning, maybe even nightfall.” The words wouldn’t survive the night.

“That’s fine,” Mark says.

“Is it?”

“Yeah. What matters is that we’ll remember writing it.” Mark pauses, looking up and surveying the secluded part of the beach that they were in, the sun that was being swallowed by the sea.

“The beach is beautiful, because of words that can’t be seen,” Mark murmurs.

“What are you talking about? The beach?”

“I’m saying,” Mark says, turning to Donghyuck, “that even now, you give me meaning.”

“Wow, that was one heck of a confession,” Donghyuck says, laughing a little in embarrassment, unsure of how to deal with Mark’s sudden romantic bone that seemed to grow overnight. Or maybe it was a dam, that was broken when Mark had said those three words in the park.

Mark shrugs, then grins, breaking into a run, calling to Donghyuck, “Come on! Let’s get closer to the waves!”

“Mark! Your suit!” He runs after him, stopping when he misjudges the incoming wave and he almost gets splashed. Mark laughs at his rather undignified squeal, unbothered by having the water hit his ankles, getting a part of his legs wet. Huffing at him, Donghyuck grabs a fistful of sand and throws it at Mark, who tries to avoid it but ends up losing balance and falling upon--oh god--another crashing wave. They stare at each other, Donghyuck’s hand on his mouth, Mark on his butt, before another wave comes and Mark scrambles to get up.

“Oh shit it’s freezing,” Mark hisses, hugging himself as he begins to shiver.

“Are you okay?” Donghyuck asks, wondering if Mark might’ve gotten hurt from his fall. He checks the suit’s backside, which was more or less soaked, even reaching the back of the collar, and his pants were even less salvageable. Nevertheless, Mark nods and gestures that he’s fine.

“We should head back.”

“No, no, it’s okay,” Mark says, “I’ll just take off my jacket, it’s the reason why I’m so cold.”

“Mark, come on,” Donghyuck says, getting confused. Why was Mark being so stubborn? What if he caught a cold?

“I’m really fine,” Mark insists, “just let me put my jacket down somewhere, okay? Let’s stay a bit longer, at least until the sun completely sets.”

Donghyuck is about to follow him, maybe berate him a bit more about how stubborn Mark was being, but then a breeze ruffles through his hair, brushing against his cheekbones, and he freezes and turns to where Mark’s words were written. Fear settles on his shoulder blades and he scrambles to the words, afraid that they’d been erased already.

When he gets there, the words are still visible, though not as legible as they were before. Taking the stick Mark had discarded, he retraces the words: LISTEN, SET BOUNDARIES, COMMUNICATION, HONESTY. These were the words that they were going to build their relationship on. He digs the stick harder against the sand, ignoring the slight twinge of pain in his palm where the wood was too rough.

The thing is, he’s not suddenly cured of fear. He’s still afraid, that the words they’ve said will disintegrate against the harsh winds of everyday life. That the meaning they carry will be lost to the tides of Donghyuck’s emotions, or Mark’s habits. He is so, so afraid.

He looks to where Mark had gone to. There were no places to put his jacket, so he had to go a bit far, all the way back to the jagged rocks where the stairs were set. He was taking off his jacket, and then squeezing the water out of it. He wonders if Mark will hear him, if he shouts from here. Probably not. The thought sparks a strange current of anxiety through him, that Mark would not hear him from where he stood. Would not turn back to him, even if Donghyuck called his name.

Suddenly the distance feels insurmountable, and the gnawing in his stomach grows. On impulse, he calls out to him, “Mark! Mark!”

Mark doesn't turn around.

The beach is too loud. His voice is competing against a myriad of sounds he had not noticed before, from the cries of the seagulls to the roaring of waves smashing against the shore. Even the wind seems to be carrying his voice somewhere else, to another direction, away from Mark.

His grip on the stick is hurting him, and he drops it with a flinch once he realizes that there was a cut, forming on the inside of his thumb. Staring at the stick, he remembers Tarek, and his calloused hands, and the stick he’d given him, hidden in layers of cotton candy. He thinks of that stick, and calls to Mark again.

“Mark!”

_I won’t lose sight of you._

“Mark!”

_Look at me, please. Turn around._

“Mark!”

The gulls echo against him, and oddly enough he remembers that moment when he had confessed to his dad, and the feeling of wings beating against the wind for the first time.

Mark turns to him, and Donghyuck brings his hands to the sides of his mouth, willing his voice to travel directly where he wants it to.

_“I love you!”_

Mark looks at him, and Donghyuck isn’t sure if he heard it or not. He can’t tell. Did he not hear him? They stare at each other, neither one moving, and Donghyuck is just about to try again when Mark breaks into a sprint, tripping slightly but catching himself in the nick of time and running again.

“Mark--” Donghyuck says, body rigid, because Mark was literally running faster than Donghyuck had seen him run, and what if he trips again and hurts himself? The words die in his throat as Mark skids to a stop in front of him, panting.

Mark brings his hand up, his fingers grazing Donghyuck’s cheek, and Mark is looking at him in a way that Donghyuck doesn’t even know how to begin to describe.

What does he see, when he looks at Donghyuck? Does he put meaning in the curve of his cheeks, or the color of his eyes? Does he see something in its depths, the way Donghyuck sees something in his? Whatever it is, it must be something beautiful. It might even be, Donghyuck thinks with wonder, something akin to home.

“You’re crying,” Mark says, and Donghyuck shakes his hand away, laughing. He hadn’t realized at all.

“You’re ruining our moment,” Donghyuck says, looking away from Mark and to the final sliver of sun, peeking through the horizon.

“Sorry,” Mark says, taking Donghyuck’s hands into his own, as he also turns to look at what Donghyuck is seeing, “I love you, too.”

Donghyuck’s gaze flits down, to the words on the sand, and believes him.

For dinner, they go back to pizza place they’d gone to two nights ago. Mark seems reluctant at first, but Donghyuck wants Mark to have good memories of the place, since it was his favorite restaurant. Having dinner there will hopefully let him forget that tense evening and the fight that occurred afterward.

It goes well, especially when Donghyuck proposes that they try feeding each other stuff, but with the other person’s eyes closed so it would be a surprise. Mark probably knew that Donghyuck was planning to put a shitload of chili sauce on the bite he’d given him, but as usual, he lets Donghyuck do it anyway. He figures it has to do with the confession. Mark was always a sucker for that kind of thing. He wonders how long he’ll be able to get away with his antics, but as Mark turns as red as the chili bottle on the table, he decides that this is good enough.

More than good enough, if he was being honest.

When they arrive home, Donghyuck sees that Ten hyung has replied with a slew of messages again, telling him how thankful he is and that they must talk soon. Donghyuck messages him saying that they definitely have a lot to talk about, and Ten hyung (surprisingly) messages back asking if it was about Mark’s speech. Donghyuck asked how Ten hyung had possibly known about it, but Ten hyung said that Donghyuck wasn’t the only one who turned to hyungs for advice.

Donghyuck wonders if Mark was also figuring things out with Ten hyung or Johnny hyung, while he was outside in the garden with Lottie. He messages another thank you to Ten hyung, and Ten hyung replies with a big heart, and the last message of the night: Maybe you’ll finally start to understand how loved you are.

Donghyuck stares at the message while lying on the bed, his fingertips tracing the words on the screen. He thinks that Mark’s love for him is probably incomprehensible to him, and will always be, but he’s finally let go of the anchor keeping him to the shore and begun to wade through its depths. He sees the light that seeps through the water and hopes that it’ll guide him and stop him from losing his way.

He thinks he’ll sleep well tonight, which is why, when he wakes up at a little past 1 am, and the afterimages of a bad dream linger on his eyelids, he thinks--nothing is ever that easy.

As he goes down to the kitchen, he figures that it’s probably just the remnants of anxiety. It was a big day. Lots of things happened. Even though they were good things, it can’t be helped that his mind can’t tell the difference, and is scrambling to process all the same. It’s fine, really. In the time it’ll take for him to finish his glass of water, he’ll be able to sleep again, and tomorrow things will be good.

When he arrives, the kitchen light is open, and he pauses, because are people in this family actually closet insomniacs? It certainly can’t be Lottie, so--

Mark looks up at him from where he’s seated, an open notebook--his journal--on the table and a pen in his hand.

“Still up?” Mark asks.

“I just wanted a glass of water. What about you? What are you doing awake?”

“Oh, you know,” Mark says, “big day and all. Had a lot to write.” He beckons Donghyuck closer, and Donghyuck can see on the page the list of words he’d written on the beach. Under each word, there were some paragraphs of explanation, elaborating on what it means, and instances where Mark could work on it.

“This is...a lot of work,” Donghyuck says, impressed.

Mark shrugs, smiling, “You know how I can be.”

Donghyuck ponders on telling Mark not to stay up too late, but then Mark will probably also tell him to head to bed. So instead, he gets his glass of water, takes a seat next to Mark, and leans his head against his shoulder to be comfortable while reading what Mark was writing. He falls asleep without realizing, to the scratchy sounds of pen against paper.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope I was able to resolve the story to your satisfaction. This is also lowkey dedicated to those who've felt what Mark has felt; anyone who's felt powerless or helpless in the face of a loved one's hurt. It's a very difficult struggle, isn't it? The kind of struggle that'll take a lifetime to accept. Anyway, the next chapter is the end. See you then!


	7. The Last Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Be patient toward all that is unsolved in your heart and try to love the questions themselves, like locked rooms and like books that are now written in a very foreign tongue. Do not now seek the answers, which cannot be given you because you would not be able to live them. And the point is, to live everything. Live the questions now. Perhaps you will then gradually, without noticing it, live along some distant day into the answer.” -Rilke, Letters to a Young Poet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, guys. So this is a lot later than I thought I'd post, but last Monday I found out that I didn't qualify for this program that I really wanted to get into (I tried for the last two years) so it's been a struggle, figuring out what I should do. I was going to postpone this even later, but then I thought that writing might help or at least distract me, so I got it done anyway! 
> 
> Thank you so much to everyone who's read this far, you're amazing. 
> 
> Enjoy the last chapter!

When Donghyuck wakes up, he finds himself lying curled on his bed, the position straining his muscles enough that they pop when he tries to stretch them out. Wincing at the pins and needles teasing his neck, he massages it while slowly rotating his head. The stiff neck was probably due to the awkward position he’d spent last night in, leaning on Mark’s shoulder. 

Mark’s shoulder, because he’d been reading what Mark had written, the words they’d written on the beach; the beach where he had told Mark he loved him. 

Was it possible to wake up inside a dream thinking it was reality? There was a word for something like that. Like waking up and thinking it was real and doing all the normal, mundane things and then waking up again to find that it was a dream, after all. Donghyuck thought that it was particularly apt because aside from the disbelief spreading through his body, alerting it that it was really awake, this time, there was also a rising feeling of futility. Going through all of that, thinking you’d already finished with it, and then realizing you’re back at step 1. 

Telling Mark he loved him out of fear and on an impulse, when he had resolved just the night before to tell him when he had already worked on his issues, so that he could tell Mark when he was ready. When he was brave. 

As he looks at his reflection in the bathroom mirror, he remembers Mark’s speech. The words had affected him enough to spur inside of him a surge of bravery. But could it be called bravery if it was done out of fear? He had only wanted to make Mark look at him. Recalling his thoughts, he’d hardly think they were the thoughts of a brave person. 

What made an action brave? Was it the intention? Or was it the act itself? Did those thoughts and feelings make Donghyuck brave, or cancel it out? Was Donghyuck different for having done it, or had he actually just fallen into the same pattern again? 

What if he caused Mark to expect something from him that he couldn’t live up to? 

His reflection stares back at him accusingly, and its eyes--his eyes, at their very depths, no longer contain the ocean that he and Mark stood by. Instead, they contain something less familiar, more foreboding. 

They contain a rising tsunami, its momentum gaining as the wheels in his mind spin faster and faster, and Donghyuck is afraid that he’ll be swept by the force of the current, left gasping. It paralyzes him, and for a second he wants to resign himself to it, wants to stand there, close his eyes, open his mouth, and drown. 

This is what’s so painful about his mind. There is nothing safe, nothing sacred. He can’t stretch a tape saying Do Not Cross, and have the fear and doubt stay away, look for another prey. If he could, he’d wrap Mark and the whole day they had yesterday in tape, cover it up tightly and hide it where the anxiety won’t even think of looking. But there is no place in his head that the anxiety does not reach, and all he can do over the roaring tides in his head is chant Stay Away, Stay Away. Let him have this one day. Or maybe that was too greedy; he didn’t need the whole day, only that conversation on the beach, the gulls, the wind, the words on the sand. Mark’s voice and touch. 

Let it always be gentle. Let it be kind. 

Let it always mean only that, and nothing else. 

If Donghyuck could be strong enough to do that one thing, it’ll be enough. If he can reach the end of this day, his last day, and still think of the ocean as something beautiful, he’d have won. Not forever, but it will be one more day than the last. 

As he thinks of the day ahead, and the goodbyes he’ll have to make to the people he’s begun to see like family, he thinks that the odds are probably against him. But then the odds were always against him, at home in Jeju, or in SM. He’ll just have to bear it anyway. 

As soon as he reaches the final step on the stairs, a sound pops and a burst of confetti comes dangerously near his face. 

“That was way too close!” 

“No it wasn’t, you held yours even nearer to Mark’s face!” 

“But that was on purpose--” 

“Alright, alright, enough fighting, shouldn’t you still be in the honeymoon phase?” 

That statement startles Donghyuck out of his confusion enough to blurt out, “What are you guys doing here?” 

“Oh come on,” Matt says, swinging an arm around Donghyuck’s shoulder, “you didn’t really think we wouldn’t be here to send you and Mark off, right? Our honeymoon can wait until tomorrow.” 

Lottie beams, shooing Matt away to give Donghyuck a tight hug, “You can’t leave without saying goodbye. And having a party!” 

For the first time, Donghyuck notices that the hallway they were in did, in fact, have streamers and balloons strewn around. Through the entryway to the dining area, he thinks he sees a part of a banner hanging from the ceiling. 

“Come on, come on, Mark’s already at the table with Dad.” 

It turns out that it is a banner, not unlike the one Mark’s parents held up on their first day. It had a similar picture, too, though this one had Donghyuck and Lottie in it. In big letters it says, Have a Safe Trip! And then below it, was signed by Sam, Jin, Matt and Lottie. 

“They’re throwing us a going-away party,” Mark says from his seat, a polka dotted party blowout in his hand. He looks torn between obligatory sheepishness and barely restrained childlike excitement that will probably entail the use of said blowout. 

Donghyuck fakes a cough to hide his laugh and joins everyone at the table for a very elaborate breakfast, including a just unveiled red velvet ice cream cake, much to his disbelieving delight and an enthusiastic seal-like clapping from Mark. 

“But when did you have time to prepare all this?” Donghyuck asks. Mark must have finished pretty late last night, and carried Donghyuck to bed. Did they arrive in the morning? 

“We slept at the inn and picked up the supplies before coming home,” Jin explains through a mouthful of cake. Matt grimaces at the stray crumbs and gives him a napkin. 

“You really didn’t have to go through the trouble, we could have eaten out or something,” Mark says, though the twinkle in his eyes said that he definitely preferred this option. 

“Nonsense, we should spend your last day at home, with family,” Sam says, voice firm and resistant to any argument. 

“Besides, you know your mom loves any excuse to decorate the house,” Jin adds. 

When they finish breakfast, Donghyuck automatically offers to help with the dishes, but Sam says to leave it. They’ll take care of it later, she says. Instead, they go outside to the garden, where some music was being played by a speaker hooked to an outlet close to the kitchen door. 

“So,” Lottie says, “who do you think can dance to Red Velvet better?” 

Donghyuck grins, eyes sparkling with the pride of any SM fanboy, and the competition begins. 

The other members of the family are called to judge, rating their performance at the end by raising a piece of paper that will have any number from 0-10. An argument ensues when Lottie calls Matt, who’d given Donghyuck a full ten for three songs in a row, biased and ungrateful. Matt retaliates by joining the competition and ends up beating them both. Donghyuck thinks that the years of Britney impersonation has made Matt an expert in body rolls, and sincerely claps for his win. 

“Hey, didn’t we use to own this trampoline--” Matt starts. 

“We are not doing anything dangerous,” Sam cuts him off, and Matt sighs but doesn’t try to plead his case. 

They end up posing by the flowers when Jin asks Mark to teach him how to pose like in those photo shoots, and it again becomes a competition when Matt says that he’s definitely more photogenic than Jin. Mark and Sam mostly take pictures and direct them, though Lottie turns out to have the most developed sense of aesthetics and adjusts both Matt and Jin’s bodies without waiting for Mark or Donghyuck’s instructions. 

Donghyuck offers to take Sam’s camera so that she can also have her pictures taken by her flowers, but Sam is surprisingly camera-shy and says that she didn’t really like getting solo shots. She offers to take Donghyuck’s pictures, but Donghyuck asks if he can be photographed with her, instead. Sam looks at the camera in her hands for a brief few seconds before smiling and nodding, calling to Mark and explaining that she and Donghyuck were going to pose together. 

“Which of the flowers do you want in the picture?” Sam asks. 

“Which ones are your favorite?” 

“Hmm,” Sam says while surveying her garden, “I can’t decide. I love them all in different ways. What about you?” 

Donghyuck’s gaze drifts to the yellow roses, and Sam’s eyes follow. She takes Donghyuck’s arm and leads him to them without a word. 

“Over here, Mark,” Sam calls. 

Mark turns to them, and when his eyes meet Donghyuck’s, Donghyuck feels some heat creeping up his cheeks. He wonders what Mark is thinking, as Mark breaks eye contact and a camera’s viewfinder comes in between them. Yellow roses didn’t feature that heavily in their romance, but it was definitely an unmistakable symbol of their feelings. 

As Sam tugs Donghyuck closer and the faint fragrance of the yellow roses register, he thinks of the tangerines in his own backyard. He’s lucky, to be able to associate so many things with home. But then that house in Jeju hadn’t been his home for a long time, and soon he’ll have to leave this one behind, too. For a long, long time, what might as well be forever, considering how busy things are going to get for him back in Seoul, and when his sub-unit becomes active again. 

It’s really unfair, he thinks. The arms he’d wrapped around Sam’s left arm tightens. Moving and traveling is part and parcel of being an idol, but barely ever seeing home, not knowing when he’ll see his family--and Mark’s family has begun to feel like his family, too--overwhelms him again and makes him feel like he’s swallowing a needle. He can’t fathom how Mark can do it. Maybe if it were him, he’d avoid going home, just so he didn’t have to say goodbye. 

Not that it really matters, with his situation. 

“Are you alright?” Sam asks, breaking Donghyuck out of his reverie, “Mark’s done taking our pictures, love.” 

Donghyuck blinks then forces a chuckle, saying, “Right, sorry, where is my head at? I just lose track of myself, sometimes.” He turns to look at Mark, who is looking back at him with concern in his eyes, and something inscrutable in the line of his mouth. 

Sam squeezes Donghyuck’s shoulder, “Let’s join the others, alright?” 

When they return to the others, they’re met with Matt and Lottie making wacky faces with the flowers. They seem to have given up on competing over who could be the most photogenic and focused on making the weirdest, most creative expressions or scenarios. Lottie crouches by one shrub and cups her chin with open palms in the “flower” gesture, and declares that she’s the prettiest flower. Donghyuck says she’s the second prettiest, because Taeyong hyung will always be number 1. Lottie laughs and pulls Donghyuck down and they outperform each other using cringe-y aegyo, cheered on by a supportive Matt and Jin, much to the embarrassment of Mark who takes photos anyway. 

They come back in for lunch, which was delivered by a nearby pizza place. Conversation resumes all around the dining table, and surrounded by the warm cocoon of people, Donghyuck can easily push his lingering sadness at their impending goodbye at bay. He can focus on the friendly banter between Matt and Lottie, who seem to still be arguing about their honeymoon destination despite it already being set, or Mark and Jin who were playing a word game to decide who would get the extra slice of pizza. He talks to Sam about how beautiful the wedding was, how happy everyone seemed. Sam laughs and launches into a nightmare-like story about how there was a last minute change with the caterers that had everyone scrambling three hours before the wedding. She swore the last time her blood pressure rose that high was when she was giving birth to Mark. 

“You know,” Donghyuck says, remembering his conversation with Jin on the first night, “Jin said something about how difficult it was when Mark was born?” 

“Oh, that story,” Sam snorts, “the umbilical cord was in this weird position, it took forever to unwind it and get it cut. The doctor said that he’d never seen it before.” 

“One of a kind even from birth,” Donghyuck jokes. 

“Yes, I suppose it was a sort of omen. That kid--” she pauses, glancing at Mark who was now listening to a story being recounted by Matt and Lottie (who had different versions, of course), and continues, “that kid’s always had his own way of doing things. He listens well but he’s always been clear about what he wants from the beginning.” 

Donghyuck can understand that. Mark was always willing to listen to the people around him, but he also had a tenacity that came out through the razor-like focus he had with his ambitions. 

“It’s a good trait to have,” Sam continues, “it’s one of the main reasons he’s gotten this far. But sometimes, with people, it might not always be the best approach.” She looks at Donghyuck with an expression that resembles an apology, and Donghyuck thinks that mothers really know their sons best. Even his own mother, who couldn’t seem to see Donghyuck at all, had a strange but accurate understanding of him. How else could he have pinpointed Donghyuck’s insecurities so easily? 

“People aren’t dreams,” Donghyuck says, “they’re not something to chase after.” Though he thinks that’s probably what he’s lead Mark to think. He remembers Mark in the kitchen last night, writing in his journal all the things he was going to do, going to work on, for their relationship. Mark sleeping at his desk, staying up late to write that speech to try and communicate his feelings to Donghyuck. Meanwhile, Donghyuck woke up today and regretted his confession, already started giving different meanings to their talk yesterday. 

Maybe it was already starting again, without Donghyuck even realizing. How could he have already messed up not a day into it? His previous track record was never great, but this was beyond even what he had expected. 

“No, they’re not dreams,” Sam agrees, “but they can be part of a dream. An important one,” she glances at her husband, “and that’s something to work towards. Together.” 

“But how do you know?” Donghyuck asks, “how do you know that you can do it?” How do you believe? 

“You don’t have to know, exactly,” Sam says, thoughtful, “this isn’t a movie, or a book, where the characters just know. Even I didn’t know, for a long time, if we were going to make it. But something about Jin just makes me want to try anyway. I’ve always had a hard time saying no to him.” 

Donghyuck pauses at the familiarity of the last sentence, at the sentiment that he himself had expressed (even if it was only in his own head) several times. It was difficult, to say no to Mark. Practically impossible when they were face to face. He’d thought that meant that it was hard for him to see or think clearly, in his presence. But then compared to his thoughts when he’d been in the bathroom earlier, his mind was, albeit not completely calm, the closest to peaceful when they were at the beach yesterday. Maybe in some ways, it was even clearer. 

“It’s hard,” Donghyuck says, “to trust myself with him.” He wants so badly to have Mark understand him, to explain things properly and say, this is what you have to do to help me. He doesn’t want Mark to feel helpless. But some things he didn’t have words for, and if he can’t do it then what will Mark do? How will he communicate what he doesn’t know what to say? It frightens him, how small the words in the sand are in the face of the sea waiting to swallow them. 

“It always is,” Sam says, sighing, “when you’re in love.” 

The activities after lunch call for less physical exertion. They watch some old family videos at Lottie’s request, and Donghyuck finally gets to ask Sam for the story that Mark wrote in grade school. The story is in between one of their old scrapbooks, and Donghyuck coos at a tiny baby Mark with the familiar slightly shell-shocked gaze staring into the camera. The papers are dusty and crumpled, but Donghyuck proudly reads the story out loud to the awaiting audience as Mark discreetly hides his face by pretending to massage his forehead. After the impromptu storytelling, everyone claps, and Donghyuck even spots a rhyme or two in the story, a subtle sign of what was to come. He takes pictures with his phone and uploads them on the group chat when Mark isn’t looking. 

While they begin a game of twister, Mark motions for Donghyuck to follow him outside to the garden. Donghyuck glances at everyone else who seems to be absorbed in the game enough to hardly spare a glance away, the competitiveness once again coming out, and Donghyuck follows Mark without a word. 

“What’s going on?” Donghyuck asks when they’re both outside. 

“There’s something I want to show you,” Mark says, walking farther into the garden, past the shrubs, and near the side with a wooden gate that leads to the outside. 

“I’ve gone through the garden before, it’s fine.” 

Mark ignores him and motions for Donghyuck to come closer to where he was, opening the swinging gate and going outside. 

“Mark, what--” Donghyuck says, slightly exasperated, but stops when he notices that there are more flowers behind the gate, in a slightly elevated area lined with the usual red bricks. He passes through the gate in a trance. 

Because the flowers weren’t just any flowers. They were roses. 

Yellow ones, with faint red tips on the outer petals.

Donghyuck grips the wooden gate by his side and says nothing. Couldn’t even imagine opening his mouth, forming words, sounding out syllables. It was impossible, absolutely beyond him, because Mark frigging Lee exists to knock the breath out of him until they die. Or until Donghyuck accidentally suffocates, and people can read in his epitaph Victim of the Absolutely Fully Capable Idiot, who was just too capable in everything he did, even when it came to loving Donghyuck. Especially when it came to loving Donghyuck. 

Mark clears his throat, “they’re called peace roses. They’re this hybrid tea rose, hybrid as in they’re grown by cross-breeding two types of roses, the tea roses and hybrid perpetuals. They’re, um, the oldest type of modern garden rose, though that’s mostly cause old garden ones are the ones from Europe or the Mediterranean, and the tea roses are from East Asia--” 

“Mark,” Donghyuck interrupts, “slow down before you choke.” 

Mark stops, eyes burning holes on Donghyuck’s face, “Am I ruining another moment?” 

“No,” Donghyuck shakes his head, finally tearing his gaze away from the roses, “you were doing fine, actually. But if you did end up choking, that would’ve really ruined it.” 

“Not very romantic,” Mark agrees. 

“Why are they called peace?” 

“The one who cultivated it first, Meilland, asked a strategist who helped in the liberation of France during the second world war, to use his name for it. But the strategist declined and asked that it be named peace, instead. They even pinned the roses on the chests of the delegations who went to the inaugural meeting in America, after the end of the war, hoping that it will inspire them as they work for world peace.” 

“That’s a lot deeper than what I was expecting,” Donghyuck admits, a bit overwhelmed, “but it’s really beautiful.” 

“Yeah, I was surprised too, when I read up on it.” 

Suddenly, Donghyuck remembers Tarek, and on a whim, he asks, “Can we get some? I mean, would your mom mind?” 

“Yeah, I’m sure she’d love to give some to you,” Mark says. 

“No, not to me...is it alright to give a bouquet to Tarek? If he’s at the park?” 

Mark looks at Donghyuck, surprise evident on his face. Then he smiles, features alight with the sun’s rays, and nods, “Yeah, he should be at the park around this time. We can go.” 

“Is it alright to leave our own going away party?” Donghyuck worries as they head back into the house. 

“They’ll understand when we explain,” Mark assures him. 

And they do. In fact, Lottie squeals at Donghyuck’s idea after they explain it, and Sam calls Donghyuck a “real sweetheart”, making Donghyuck avoid their eyes in embarrassment. Everyone heads back out, and they all choose one rose for Sam to cut. Donghyuck looks at the beautiful, aristocratic roses in amazement, crouching closer to marvel at them, before pausing and wondering why they were at such a strange location, practically outside of the garden. Maybe because Mark had only requested them later, so there was no space left? Donghyuck is about to ask but Sam finishes and they all troop back into the house. Donghyuck, Lottie, and Mark watch Sam arrange the roses into a bouquet as Matt and Jin settle back into the couch. 

“Here you are,” Sam says, handing the bouquet to Donghyuck, “they’re usually put with other colored roses, and hydrangeas or cosmos, but this will definitely get your message across.” 

“Oh, um,” Donghyuck says, “I don’t really...I mean, I just remembered something he’d said to me, about peace, and I wanted to thank you.” 

Sam beams, and tells him, “He deserves a hundred roses, that man. Though his wife often gets some left over from the church, so their house is probably filled with them anyway.” 

Donghyuck holds the bouquet carefully as they leave the house, and Jin reminds them to not be gone too long, so they can wrap up and get ready to leave for the airport in time. 

“Want me to hold them?” Mark offers, but Donghyuck shakes his head, refusing to even let one hand go, so both were cradling the bouquet like a baby. Even though his intention was to give it to Tarek, he can’t help but feel attached all of a sudden. He thinks of the bouquet that Mark had gotten him all those years ago, the vase he’d put it in as Ten hyung read instructions on how to properly cut the stems and change the water. He’d even considered drying the roses out to preserve them, but then he had thought it was too much, and anyway Mark would give him more the next year. Which he did, up until the fight. 

He holds the roses closer to his chest and shakes his head at the negative emotions, as if the roses were a shield he could use to protect himself from their onslaught. 

“You know,” Mark says, “if you only hold them with one hand, we could hold hands.” 

“Are you bribing me right now?” Donghyuck accuses, though there’s no heat in his words. 

“My hand’s cold and lonely, see?” Mark says, waving his hand up, as if Donghyuck could tell its temperature by staring at it. 

“I’m carrying some precious cargo right now,” Donghyuck says, “so your hand will have to suffer a little longer.” 

“Does that mean we can hold hands on the way back?” Mark says, barely deterred. 

“It depends,” Donghyuck says, “are you going to keep up this lame attempt at flirting until we reach the park?” 

“Oh come on,” Mark says, bumping shoulders with Donghyuck, “I know you like it when I’m being smooth.” 

“As smooth as the stems of the roses I’m carrying,” Donghyuck says. The thorns were left uncut by Sam. 

Mark laughs but doesn’t seem to feel the need to retort. Instead, they stick close to each other, and if someone were to look at them, two men passing by, one with a bouquet of roses, the other practically glued to his side, maybe they’d think something beautiful, like a snapshot of love. They’d think of how sweet the other boy was, to give Donghyuck roses. They’d think of how the roses were being cradled so carefully by Donghyuck, like he was holding glass, and say ah, the gift is not wasted on this one. Their facade would resemble how they were like before, when they’d just gotten together. Of course, in Seoul they’d hardly be out in the open like this, but still. He imagines that it would be a bit like going back in time. 

Does he wish to go back to it? To the first flush of love, before the complications of Donghyuck’s family and work and everything else? To go back to that innocent phase, oblivious to how they could bring out something ugly in each other? 

No, Donghyuck thinks. Their feet slap against the pavement, steady and slightly syncopated since Donghyuck’s strides were a bit bigger, and with each thud, he thinks again, no. No, no, no. He doesn’t. That time, wonderful as it was, no longer fit them. They’d outgrown it, like their school clothes, like childhood trinkets left at the back of the closet. Their love, Donghyuck’s love, was different. Practically unrecognizable, really. The doubts, the fear, the anxiety. The understanding, the resolution, the acceptance. Maybe the heart also had to take some growing pains for it to expand, for the love it can give to grow. 

They reach the park without Donghyuck realizing, and he only comes out of his thoughts once he sees the familiar figure of Tarek and the cart with the Pokemon displays. He speeds up, surprising Mark, who moves faster to keep up. Once they reach Tarek’s cart, Donghyuck realizes how he hadn’t even thought of what to say, how to explain, which was surely necessary because who suddenly gives flowers to someone they barely know? 

Tarek gazes at them curiously, probably waiting for their order. Donghyuck swallows, and says, “Do you remember--I mean, do you remember me from two days ago?” 

“Yes,” Tarek answers, smiling, “You’re Korean. And you were fighting.” 

“Um,” Donghyuck says, “actually, I haven’t done my mandatory military service yet--” 

“No, I mean fighting up here,” Tarek points to his temple, “your eyes can say.” 

Donghyuck exchanges a glance with Mark, who looks just as confused, but Donghyuck thinks he sort of understands. Tarek probably thought he looked a bit lost. A bit afraid. He remembers what he felt, before that talk with Mark. He felt like he was going into battle, with no hope of winning. He didn’t even know who he was supposed to fight, or what he was fighting for. 

“You said something about peace? For my home?” For me, he doesn’t add, as he remembers Tarek’s trembling finger against his heart. 

“Peace,” Tarek says, “to be together.” 

“In a way, being apart is how they achieved peace,” Mark suddenly says, “if they hadn’t put up a wall, the war--all out war--could still be ongoing.” 

“Is it impossible to be at peace while being apart?” Donghyuck wonders. He understands where Mark is coming from, after all. 

“Only if you truly do not want to be together,” Tarek says, eyes far away. His gaze drifts down, to Donghyuck’s chest. 

“These are called peace roses,” Donghyuck says, glancing at Mark, who takes this as his cue and continues for him. 

“We grow them in my mom’s garden,” Mark says, “when I was explaining what the name meant, Donghyuck said he remembered you and wanted to give you some.” 

Donghyuck hands the bouquet with both hands, “I want to thank you.” For saying kind words. For being brave. For helping me be brave, in my own, fledgling way. Shaky legs and pounding heart and all. 

“For hoping for peace.” 

Tarek takes the bouquet with a delighted smile, inhaling the faint scent that the roses emitted, and tells him, “To give me peace, you are very kind.” 

Donghyuck flushes slightly at the words, though he knows that Tarek only means the roses. He murmurs a shy you’re welcome, and assures Tarek that he doesn’t need compensation in the form of cotton candy shaped as legendary birds. Anyway, he was still full from lunch. 

“If you or your wife would like some more, don’t hesitate to ask. They’re ever blooming, after all,” Mark adds, “though since Donghyuck and I are going home, you’ll have to ask my mom or my dad, instead.” 

“You are headed back to Korea?” 

“Yes, our flight is scheduled for tonight,” Donghyuck says. 

“Ah, you will be missed,” Tarek says, before taking one of the roses from the bouquet and extending his hand out to Donghyuck, “at least take one, won’t you? For a safe trip.” 

Donghyuck isn’t sure how a flower will assure him of safety on their way home, but Tarek’s solemn eyes convince him to take it anyway. He thanks him, and, seeing a group of young children making their way over, excuses himself and Mark, exchanging well-wishes and take care’s. 

“Let’s sit for a while?” Mark offers, gesturing to a bench. 

Donghyuck twirls the stem between his thumb and index finger, watching the petals swirl back and forth. Keeping his eyes on the rose, he nods and follows Mark’s lead. Flashes of their conversation on a similar bench just a stone throw away makes Donghyuck tense, and he knows already that their conversation now will also be a serious one. He wonders what Mark will say. 

He wonders what he will say; if he should tell Mark about this morning, about how the ocean Mark had given him had changed, the light that was supposed to seep through disappearing, as if the sky had turned overcast without any warning. Before, he knows he would never have considered it. Telling Mark about how awful he sometimes feels seemed bothersome, on both ends. For Mark, who wouldn’t really be able to do anything about it anyway even if they did talk about it. For Donghyuck, whose mood resembles that of a slippery fish caught in an unsteady grip, always threatening to twist from one side to the other at a moment’s notice.

It isn’t that the thoughts he has when he’s alone don't matter or feel true anymore. It’s that, once it’s over and Donghyuck has slipped away from its nets, the idea of rehashing it seems unnecessary and pointless. It also feels like he’d be risking going back to that state when he didn’t have to, voluntarily thinking thoughts that, otherwise, would have only appeared in his weaker moments. Like purposely cutting through your skin to attract sharks. Only masochistic people did things like that, and Donghyuck definitely wasn’t one of them. 

“So, what do you think?” Mark asks. 

“About what?” 

“Vancouver. I asked you on our first day in the car, do you remember? And you told me to wait a bit. So I figured you’d know by now, since it’s our last day and all.” 

Donghyuck isn’t really sure what Mark is expecting him to answer. It was like one of those awkward questions that people ask, like how is work or how’s everything, and how are you supposed to sum up so many things in just a few short sentences? Finally, what comes out of Donghyuck’s mouth is--

“I thought about Jeju a lot, while we were here,” which wasn’t exactly what he had meant to say, but it wasn’t untrue, either. 

“Oh? Did it make you miss home?” Mark asks, clearly caught off guard by his answer. 

“Not exactly,” Donghyuck says, because miss wasn’t the right word. He did think about it a lot, but staying here didn’t make him wish to be in Jeju, “it’s more of...generally. Since this is your home.” 

“Were you comfortable? With my parents and Lottie and Matt?” 

The question pulls a smile out of Donghyuck, because it was a bit absurd but just like Mark to make sure, “Yes, I was. They treated me well--like I was part of the family.” 

“You are,” Mark says, then seems to backtrack a bit, ears turning the same shade as the rose that Donghyuck was holding, “I mean, everyone loves you. My parents practically see you as their son, anyway.” 

“If I had parents like yours, I don’t know if I could ever leave home,” Donghyuck admits, a bit wistful. He’s aware that it was insensitive, to bring this matter up, but he couldn’t stop the confession from spilling out. 

“Yeah,” Mark says, “I mean, agreeing with you sounds kind of hollow, but I think I hadn’t realized yet when I was younger, how much my parents meant to me. If I had understood it better, I don’t know if I could have gone on that plane. It was already so hard even without that.” 

“I think you would have,” Donghyuck says, recalling their conversation a few days ago about how Mark identified himself between two different cultures, “you’ve always been surprisingly strong. Sometimes even you don’t know it.” 

“A bit ironic, coming from you,” Mark says, making Donghyuck raise his eyebrows in confusion. 

“What do you mean by that?” 

“See? You don’t know at all,” Mark sighs, shaking his head, “I wonder if sometimes you only want to see your faults, since you’re so eager to focus on them.” 

“No,” Donghyuck says, “it’s because you don’t know--there’s stuff I haven’t told you about, you can’t judge based on an inaccurate picture of me. And anyway, you love me, so you’re biased.” 

“Isn’t it because I love you that I can see you more clearly?” Mark mutters, but then shakes his head and takes hold of Donghyuck’s hand, entwining their fingers as their hands rest in the small space between their laps. The gentle but firm grip reminds Donghyuck of Lottie’s hand, and the things he’d said then. He thinks also about the word Honesty that Mark had written on the beach, and again on his notebook. 

“This morning,” he pauses, bringing the rose that he’d left on his lap near his face again using his free hand, “this morning, I woke up and I got really scared.” 

Mark’s thumb starts going back and forth against his skin, small, barely-there motions, but Donghyuck thinks it’s as good as hearing Mark’s steady breaths, “I got scared that we--that I--got ahead of myself, yesterday. That I was being careless, and was swept away by your speech, or something.” 

“Do you regret it? It’s alright if you do,” Mark hurries to add, though his expression was transparent enough for Donghyuck to know how scared he was, of hearing Donghyuck say yes. 

“I don’t think so,” Donghyuck says, and he’s not sparing Mark’s feelings, either, “it’s just that sometimes I get these thoughts, and I don’t know if they’re true--that is, I don’t know if I really believe them, but they’re in my head anyway, and I don’t know if that means I must believe them somehow, or if I’m just confused…” 

It was the same case at the beginning of when things started turning sour, all those years ago. He honestly didn’t know if he really believed that Mark would one day stop loving him (even the very idea of it seemed strange and foreign), but the thought--the fear--pounded in his head until he figured that he must believe it. The confusion had also stopped him from asking Mark for reassurances, because it honestly seemed so absurd when said out loud. And so he had felt trapped, and his actions started accommodating that belief. 

“Whatever it is you decide--it’s fine with me,” Mark says. 

“Is it?” Donghyuck turns away from the rose to settle his gaze on Mark, the syllables coming out sharper than he’d intended. He knows that Mark is trying to be comforting, but he doesn’t like the idea that Mark could be lying for the sake of coddling him. 

“Well, no,” Mark grumbles, “of course I’d rather you say that we’ll be together. But I don’t want to force you…” 

“You’re not, though,” Donghyuck says, “you’re just being honest. That’s what we agreed on, didn’t we?” 

“Yeah, we did,” Mark leans back on the bench, slightly tugging Donghyuck’s hand with the movement, “you know, I was worried that those words might not matter.” 

“You were the one writing line after line on your journal last night,” Donghyuck says, surprised. 

“That’s because I know how much I want them to matter, but in the end it’s up to us both, right?” 

Donghyuck thinks back to what he had told Sam. People aren’t dreams. He’d said it because he didn’t want Mark to see him as something to chase after. But then, he’d also sort of seen Mark as someone he had to catch up to, didn’t he? Had he somehow placed Mark on a kind of pedestal, like some fans or instructors who’d favored him as the golden boy? They had to be on equal footing, because the relationship would turn one-sided otherwise. They needed to put in the same amount of effort, or else it would become unfair towards the other. 

Suddenly Donghyuck releases a sharp, deep sigh, his whole body slumping as he expels it. 

“Why can’t things ever be easy for us? Was it this hard for Ten hyung and Johnny hyung?” 

Mark chuckles, “Maybe it was? We’ll never really know. Though if we were to compare situations, Jaehyun hyung and Taeyong hyung’s relationship would be more fitting, don’t you think?” 

Donghyuck’s eyebrows twitch at the reminder of the drama that Taeyong hyung and Jaehyun hyung went through before getting together. It was practically a Kdrama, complete with the pining, denial, avoiding, misunderstandings and melodramatic confessions and apologies. Even Ten hyung refused to get involved, stating that if Taeyong hyung wanted to stay purposely oblivious forever then at least Jaehyun hyung was just as willing to play martyr for his best friend’s happiness, in which case at least their miseries suited each other. 

“I was never in denial over my feelings for you,” Donghyuck says, though he might have remembered a very short time when he tried to transfer the feelings to Nana, much to Nana’s amusement and Jeno’s horror. It ended quickly enough, with a souvenir in the form of a mug that said What You’re Looking For Is Right In Front Of You, which Donghyuck took to mean Stay in your own fucking lane, please. He swore he could actually see Jeno’s smug eye smile when buying said mug. 

“That makes one of us, then,” Mark says, “I actually tried referring to you as my little brother all the time, at some point. Johnny hyung told me to get a grip.” 

The mental image of Johnny hyung saying that, along with the firm pat on the shoulders he no doubt gave Mark, makes Donghyuck snort, “Seriously?” 

“Seriously,” Mark says, “I mean, come on. The only other serious crush I had was this girl I was classmates with in grade school. Realizing I liked you--that I was in love with you--was terrifying. You were terrifying.” 

“Damn right,” Donghyuck says, because he knows that Mark doesn’t mean it in a bad way. He’s always just had a knack for commanding most of Mark’s attention (when he wasn’t focused on work). He may or may not have played it up for fun a few times. Or maybe more than a few...maybe all the time, really. 

“What about now? Do I still scare you?” Donghyuck asks, curious. 

“No doubt,” Mark says, nodding, “out of everyone I’ve met--and I’ve met a lot of people, you scare me the most.” 

“It’s part of my charm,” Donghyuck says, only half joking. 

“It is,” Mark agrees, “but what really scares me is how much I want to be with you. I know that the main thing I should want is for you to be okay, regardless of whether we’re together. And I do think that way. But it doesn’t diminish how much I want to be with you.” 

Mark’s tone is rueful, and Donghyuck supposes he should feel heavy with that kind of confession, feel the weight of Mark’s desire. But he doesn’t really feel any obligation towards it, since Mark clearly isn’t using it as a means to persuade him. Anyway, he couldn’t blame Mark for feeling that way when they were in love. It would have hurt him more if Mark didn’t want to be with him. 

“This side of you is going to take a bit of getting used to,” Donghyuck says, then to make sure that Mark doesn’t see it as an insult, “but it’s a good thing.” 

“It feels really strange to suddenly be saying so much of what I’m thinking,” Mark admits, sheepish. 

“Don’t I know it,” Donghyuck says, a hint of wryness leaking through, “any other confessions?” 

Mark pauses, deliberating something, before shrugging, “Might as well. My brother probably told you that it was his idea to invite you to the wedding, right?” 

Donghyuck blinks. 

“Actually, it was sort of Lottie’s idea, but she talked to me about it before casually mentioning it to Matt. I mean, it wasn’t really an outright suggestion, so Matt probably thought it really was his idea, but yeah.” 

“So...you and Lottie planned it?” Donghyuck frowns, “did you mean for us to come here so we could talk properly?” Although things did unfold that way, he thinks that they could have still had that talk in Seoul. Maybe. 

“I hoped we could, yeah,” Mark says, “but mostly I just thought it was a good opportunity to show you around my home. And meet my family. Even if we didn’t end up talking like we are now, I would have been just as happy as long as you had fun.” 

“Then there’s nothing to worry about,” Donghyuck says, “I had more fun this last week than I have the past year, really.” 

Mark beams, and Donghyuck thinks--ah, I want to kiss that smile. The thought surprises him, making him look away and focus on the rose again, but staring at its soft petals only reminded him of how soft Mark’s lips were against his, usually a little chapped, and really there was no escaping the warm sensation blooming in his gut. 

“Don’t freak out,” Donghyuck says, “but I’m thinking about kissing you.”  
Mark’s intake of breath isn’t very loud, but audible enough to make Donghyuck tense. 

“Don’t freak out,” Mark says, “but so am I.” 

The words startle a laugh out of Donghyuck, and mid-chuckle, Mark leans in. He misses by half an inch, and Donghyuck turns his head a bit to fix the blunder. The kiss is mostly chaste, and Donghyuck can practically taste the cautiousness with which Mark was handling him. They separate with a brush of lips, once, twice. Just like before. 

He opens his eyes to meet Mark’s, which were dazed and unfocused, and thinks that he’s ready to come home. 

When they get back, both Jin and Sam reprimand them for taking longer than they should. They still have plenty of time, really, but Donghyuck feels guilty anyway and apologizes sincerely. Matt catches Mark in a headlock and asks them why they took so long, but Donghyuck doesn’t stay to listen to the answer, instead going back up to fix the last of his things. Lottie offers to help, and they go about checking to make sure that nothing was left behind.

“Oh, that reminds me,” Lottie says, “I need to get the copy of that photo in the rink from Mark, Mom said she gave him some extra. It should be on his table.” 

“I’ll get it,” Donghyuck says, “I want one, too.” 

“Mark,” Donghyuck calls, knocking on his door. When there’s no answer, he comes in, figuring that Mark was probably still downstairs. Checking his table, he finds the photos easily, right on top of some of Mark’s other books. He picks up the copy at the very top, wondering if Mark had already gotten his own, and checks the back, pausing when realizes that there was already writing on it. 

It was probably Mark’s, then, he thinks. He stares at the words, which were in English, and not very legible because of Mark’s small handwriting. He comes closer to the window for sunlight, peering closer to read it. 

There were numbers, which was the date of when the picture was taken, and under it--

My Family

Donghyuck shuts his eyes tight for a few seconds, then opens them to read it again. And again. Then he sighs, looking out of the window where the sun was beginning to set. He opens the window just a bit, to let some air in. Then, looking down, he notices that the window was a perfect spot to see the peace roses, which were right below, waving idly in the wind.

Stupid wind, he curses, rubbing at his eyes furiously. Stupid Mark. 

He puts the photo back, taking the two copies below it, and after a minute of breathing in and out, goes back to his room to meet with Lottie. 

The atmosphere in the car is surprisingly subdued, unobtrusive for those who wanted to rest (Matt and Mark) and those who wanted to talk quietly (Lottie and Donghyuck, Sam and Jin). Lottie talks to Donghyuck about their honeymoon plans, and urges Donghyuck to tell her his upcoming schedules for about a month after they get back, though he says they’re mostly individual ones and that what’s most important is when they’ll announce plans for a comeback. Lottie says that everything Donghyuck is doing is important, though she does ask that he’ll message her about comeback updates, as well. 

“Won’t you be really busy after the honeymoon, though? With work and settling everything?” 

“Not really, everything’s been set. Matt and I already have a place and pretty much everyone’s going to help us in moving in, so it’s nothing to sweat about.” 

“Your mom, too?” 

“Yeah. Well...I don’t know. Hey, did you notice that veil I was wearing yesterday? The one with the roses?” 

“Yeah, actually--that was the first thing I noticed, when you came down.”

“Right? It’s beautiful. Anyway, my mom, she--” Lottie bit her lip, her voice becoming even softer, “she made it for me herself.” 

“She did?” Donghyuck asks, voice also hushed. 

“Yeah. I had no idea--I mean, I didn’t even specify what I wanted on a veil, I just assumed she picked whatever went best with the dress...but it was really perfect, wasn’t it?” 

“It suited you,” Donghyuck agrees, “I didn’t think your mom was the type to do that.” 

“You and me both,” Lottie says, then sighs, “I don’t know. Mothers, you know? No one can break your heart like they can.” 

“No kidding,” Donghyuck says. You just never really know what they’re thinking. 

When they get to the airport, Donghyuck feels the lump that’s been gathering in his throat all throughout the car ride get even bigger, and he holds on to Lottie’s arm tightly. When it comes time for them to separate, Donghyuck is enveloped in a hug by Sam, who is joined by Jin, then Matt and finally Lottie who squeals out Family hug! And pretty much everyone surrounds Donghyuck, with their warm bodies, breaths, and heartbeats. 

If Donghyuck didn’t adore Taeyong hyung as much as he did, he would have asked if it was alright to extend their vacation a bit longer. But he did adore him, and everyone else waiting for them back home. It was time to head back. 

“You’re always welcome here, alright?” Sam says, fixing Donghyuck’s messy hair, “no matter how busy your life gets over there, don’t forget that.” 

“Thank you,” Donghyuck says. He wants to burrow into Sam’s warm embrace forever, “I’ll make some of the food you taught me back home and tell you what the other members think.” 

Jin squeezes his arm, Matt says Fighting, and Lottie squeezes Donghyuck’s hands tight within her own, promising him they’ll keep in touch. At the corner of his eye, he sees Mark’s head on Sam’s shoulder, and hears him murmur I’m going now, and Sam’s reply of Okay, love, okay, and he feels his face crumpling. 

“Now, now,” Lottie says, “stay strong. This isn’t forever. Even if you can’t come to us, we’ll visit you as soon as we can, okay? I promise.” 

“I’m scared,” Donghyuck admits. I’m scared of what’s going to happen next. 

“I know, but that’s okay. You were brave once, so now you can do it again. It’ll come easier, you’ll see. Like a habit.” 

Donghyuck nods, “Okay.” I trust you. 

When they board the plane, Donghyuck’s right hand is hurting because of the two carry-on bags that he was holding. But it was okay, because his left hand was in Mark’s right one, and also he could tell that Mark’s left arm was starting to go numb, if the way he was trying to stretch it out a bit under the bag was any indication. He figures that it makes them even. 

Once they’re settled in their seats, Mark asks if Donghyuck is alright. He nods, because even though he was indescribably sad, he was also still okay with it. He’s okay. 

Donghyuck wakes up and checks his phone to see that it is a little past 1 am. At least his brain was consistent, he supposes. Beside him, Mark is sleeping, making strange snuffling noises. Donghyuck snaps a picture, then takes out a pen and his notebook from his bag. 

He stares at the blank page, feels tremors going through his hand. Or was it the turbulence? He wasn’t sure. Mark stirs, blinking slowly as he registers what Donghyuck is doing. 

“Are you writing?”

“Yeah,” Donghyuck says, “I have an idea for a song.” 

“Really?” Mark says, much more awake now, “about what?” 

“Parents.” 

“Parents...what about them? I mean, do you know what kind of song it’ll be yet?” 

Donghyuck pauses. He isn’t sure, really, of what’s going to come out. It might be sad, so a ballad, or it might be something else, if he happens to think of Sam and Jin. He really doesn’t know. But what he is sure of--

Like a habit, he thinks. 

“An honest one.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woohoo it's done!! Also rereading it I've come to realize that a picture saying "My Family" might not be what you guys were expecting in terms of a proposal but I swear it seemed really romantic in my head. I'm sorry if I disappointed anyone. 
> 
> Anyway, thank you again to everyone who's read this story. This was my first chaptered fic, and I had a lot of doubts, but the comments and kudos really encouraged me to continue and see this through. If it isn't too much trouble, please leave a comment to tell me what you think!


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